


John Walker RN

by Solo2863



Category: Swallows and Amazons - Arthur Ransome
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-15
Updated: 2015-07-17
Packaged: 2018-04-05 04:52:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 48,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4166640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Solo2863/pseuds/Solo2863
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No-one will be surprised that John Walker joined the Navy. But what is the life of a young officer like, and can a love of small boats be useful when serving in His Majesty's Ships? Will childhood friendships survive the onset of adulthood? Not a continuous narrative, more a selection of scenes as in Forrester's "Midshipman Hornblower".</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Last Evening

"Quiet please!" called Uncle Jim. No-one was taking any notice so he rapped on the big dining table with his knife. Gradually the chatter died away. With all the Blacketts, Walkers and Callums present it was quite a crowd. When he was sure he had everyone's attention he got to his feet and looked around at the expectant faces. "Thank you", he said, "I don't want to make a long speech, but I feel a notable occasion like this shouldn't go unmarked. It's been five years since my rapscallion nieces met the Walkers, and since then they have almost become part of the family."

"I know my first encounter with John was not particularly auspicious," at this John blushed at the memory of the rude reception he had from 'the man in the houseboat', "but I think he has forgiven me after all this time. Tonight is his last with us as a civilian, when he next visits he will be an officer, though a rather junior one, in His Majesty's Navy. All I want to say is, I wish John all the best for the future, and I am sure he will do well in his chosen career. If he doesn't eventually get made an admiral their Lordships need their heads examining."

"Will you all please join me in drinking a toast to Cadet John Walker RN!"

Everyone stood and raised their cup or glass to John, "John Walker! Good Luck"

While John tried hide his blushes, Nancy slapped him on the back, "Come on Commodore, let's have a response."

John got to his feet. Although he was amongst the best friends he had ever known he was at a loss of what to say.

"Um, thank you everyone. I must admit that since we first came here and met Nancy and Peggy our visits to the Lake have been the best of times and I look forward to them all year. Although Nancy can seem a bit scary at first she is really a nice person underneath." At this Nancy stuck out her tongue at him. "Dartmouth and the Navy seem a bit scary now and I hope they are nice underneath as well." And he sat down hurriedly as everyone clapped.

After the meal Mrs Walker and Mrs Blackett waved away offers of help from Susan and Dorothea, and suggested they ensured that everything that could be packed now was packed and to make sure the rest was ready to be done in the morning. It was going to be an early start as the Walkers had to change trains three times to get home as well as getting across London.

Nancy called over to John, "I need to check I moored _Amazon_ properly. Will you come with me?" John had never known Nancy not to secure a boat correctly, her knots were as good, if not better than his, but he could tell she wanted him to go with her.

"Let's all go!" said Roger.

"No," said Titty, sensing that Nancy wanted time alone with John. "We ought to make sure _Swallow_ is clean and tidy to hand back to the Jacksons at Holly Howe tomorrow." And she led the way to edge of the lawn where Swallow lay.

John followed Nancy to the boathouse. Just as he expected both _Amazon_ and the Beckfoot rowing boat were tied securely. However Nancy ignored both boats and headed to a dark corner where two beams forming the frame of the building created a hidden ledge. Reaching in Nancy pulled out a package roughly wrapped in brown paper. Handing it to John she said, "It's just a little goodbye present. I didn't want to give it to you in front of the others." 

Pulling off the paper John found a brand new copy of the latest edition of Knight's _Sailing_

"Open it.", she urged. 

John opened the book and tucked inside the flyleaf he found a card with a beautiful water colour painting of Swallow on one side and a hand written message on the reverse. He held it in the light to read it properly: 

_"To John Walker, the finest sailor I know.  
With all my Love, Nancy"_

For the second time that evening John found he was at a loss for words. 

"Thank you, Nancy." Was all he could manage. 

She replied with a catch in her throat, "I know your old copy of Knight is falling apart, and thought you would need a new one." 

"Yes, but the card…?" 

"I did it", replied Nancy, "it took three attempts to get it right. I had to get it right… for you." 

To John's surprise tears started to roll down her cheeks in a most un-Nancylike fashion. For a moment John was at a loss, the fearless captain of the Amazon Pirates was weeping real tears. Then, still holding the copy of Knight and the card he wrapped his arms around her and held her close. Nancy just buried her face in his chest. Not knowing what to say John just held her tight as the sobs gradually subsided. 

For the first time John thought of his fellow Captain as a girl, a young woman, for years she had been a pirate captain, a fellow sailor and explorer, not a girl. Girls were the giggly sisters of school friends who watched the boys shyly at events like prize-giving or the staff versus boys rugby match. Nancy was not one of those, she never had been, never would be. 

"What must you think of me?" she finally asked when she regained some composure, looking up at John. 

"I think you are a most amazing person, with talents I never knew you had." At that John bent down and kissed Nancy full on the lips. After a moment's hesitation she responded. For what seemed like an eternity the two clung to each other. There was no sound except the quiet lapping of water under _Amazon_. Then a shout from Roger broke the silence. 

"John! Nancy! Susan says the cocoa is ready!" 

The pair looked at each other and smiled. "We should have done this ages ago." said John, as hand in hand, they went out into the dusk. 


	2. News from The North

The door to the Pellew Division gunroom banged open as the Duty Cadet burst in. "Mail time!" he shouted, and was immediately mobbed by his term-mates eager to find out if they had news from home. "I say, steady chaps. Give me room!", he yelled. He started calling out the names of the Cadets who had letters, "Spiller... Brackenbury... Goodwin, you lucky beast, you've got three... Hannagan... What's this? 'Cadet (Commodore) J Walker'? Who's had an early promotion then?"

John felt his face burning red as he took the letter. There was only one person who would address an envelope to him like that and he did not want to share a letter from her with anyone else. When all the mail had been distributed he found a quiet place at one of the long tables and once he was sure no-one was taking any notice of him carefully slit open the envelope and took out three surprisingly neatly written sheets. In the past letters from Nancy were single pages that somehow acquired a battered and well-worn look before they got as far as the post box. These were clean and only featured a few small blots. John's thought was either she was growing up or she had acquired a new fountain pen.

He started to read.

_Dear John,_

_Sorry I haven't replied to your last two letters. Things have been a bit hectic for the last few weeks and there has not been time to sit still and write. I hope this will explain what's been going on._

_A few days after I last wrote_ (John smiled at this for Nancy had only written once since he had been at the Naval College) _Mother received a letter from the GA. In it she said she was ill and wanted to see us all as soon as possible. She has claimed to be ill before and had everyone running around her like mad things but this was the first time she has asked for us all meaning me and Peggy as well. Uncle Jim even telephoned ahead to book a hotel for a few nights as it takes for ever to get to Harrogate and back and it can't be done in a day._

_We all trailed off to Yorkshire with Mother worrying about what would happen if GA was really ill and decided to come to Beckfoot and have us nurse her. Uncle Jim said he'd put his foot down and not permit it, but if he did it would be the first time ever he stood up to GA!_

_When we got there GA really did look in a bad way. There was a nurse fussing round her constantly tweaking the bedclothes and checking the old dragon was alright. She was sitting up in bed wrapped in blankets and shawls and wearing a ridiculous lace mob cap, and her skin looked grey and sort of transparent. For once she was nice as pie to us and explained in a strange quavery voice (do I really mean quavery or is that something to do with music?) that she thought this really was the end and did not expect to be around much longer. Of course Mother and Uncle Jim made all the right noises telling her she had years to go yet etc. GA told them to shut up_ _, (John did not for one moment believe those were the actual words used)_ _she had enjoyed a full life and she was prepared for the end. Then she spoke to me and Peg. She explained that she might have been a bit hard on us in the past but during the last time she stayed at Beckfoot had realised we were good girls at heart and appreciated how we put ourselves out to ensure she was comfortable._ (John rightly assumed this was when the Ds had to stay in the Dog's Home to avoid the GA) _As she had no other young family members she had changed her will and left the house in Harrogate jointly to the two of us. She waffled on about other legal stuff but that was the essence of it._

_Peggy and I were a bit taken aback at that. I'd expected her to leave everything to a fund for gentlewomen in straitened circumstances or something. We didn't stay too long as she said she was getting tired. Mother and Uncle J visited her again the next day and said she seemed a little better so we all visited again then trundled back north._

_A few days later we had a telegram saying she had passed away and Uncle Jim had to ensure her final instructions were carried out. Poor thing, he had to sort out her funeral arrangements and all that. Of course we had to go back to Harrogate for that. A load of her old cronies were there all looking like characters from a Dickens novel and fussing over Peg and me. Wanting to get their greedy paws on our money I bet._

_Later we met the GA's "man of affairs" as she always called him, naturally she was far too grand to have a mere solicitor. He explained the conditions of her will. The house will remain in a trust thing for us until we are both 25 but we can either live in it or rent it out but not sell it until then. Why would we want to live in Harrogate? It's full of old people and miles from any decent sailing! He suggested he should find a tenant and we can have the profit from the rent, after he takes various fees etc – typical bloodsucking lawyer._

_That's enough about us. What about you? Are they still running you ragged at Dartmouth? Your drill instructor sounds like our school games mistress who only seemed happy when we were suffering. I'm really envious of all those boats you have down there. Why won't they allow women to join the Navy? Is it because they're afraid we would be better at it than the men?_

_Congratulations on doing so well in the swimming gala. Those swims round Wild Cat Island were of some use then. Do you have sailing competitions? You'll be a dead certain winner if they do._

_I know this should be like every other time when we've been apart during term time but this time I'm really missing you. I want to hear your voice and feel you close to me._ _ Please _ _write again soon. I want to hear all those silly little snippets about what you get up to. It makes it more real and helps me visualise what you are up to. John Walker I miss you._

_All my love,_

_Nancy_

_P.S. Peggy sends her love._

_P.P.S. So does Mother_

John felt a little breathless after reading it, Nancy could be very sparing with her use of commas at times. He re-read the letter, then re-read the last paragraph again and felt his eyes misting up. He bit his lower lip, hard, then carefully refolded the pages, put them back in the envelope and tucked it into the inner pocket of his jacket. Later he would ensure it was locked safely away in his sea chest.

In a moment his mind was far from the spartan, white painted gunroom in south Devon. He was back beside the great lake in the north, with the water sparkling in the sun, the high fells forming a green and purple backdrop, and a dark-haired, sun-tanned girl close by his side. This was a favourite image, and one that came to him whenever he thought of Nancy.

Since that last evening in the Beckfoot boathouse he had thought of Nancy rather a lot. Nancy in her customary "comfortables" of shorts and shirt. Nancy in the grey and red of her school uniform, and even Nancy in her bathers. The thought of this last image made him redden again.

The Duty Cadet's voice broke through his reverie, "Come on Walker, stop day-dreaming and get a move on! We've got seamanship with old Bryson in ten minutes. You know he'll take it out on the whole class if anyone's late."

The moment was gone. It was time to start thinking of blake-slips and joggle-shackles again. Reluctantly John pushed the thoughts of the older Blackett sister to the back of his mind, grabbed his cap and followed the rest of the class to their lesson.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In naval parlance a gunroom is the living space for junior officers, not a place to store weapons


	3. A Run Ashore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a term at Dartmouth John is now aboard the Cadet Training Ship HMS Frobisher for a training cruise in the West Indies.

John leant against a guardrail and watched as the sun set in a blaze of red and gold. When he had no duties this was a special time of day at sea. He was sure someone like Titty or Dorothea who had a way with words could express properly how it felt. As it was he could just watch the great, glowing orb sink below the western horizon with a slight sense of wonder that such a show was available for all to enjoy. Watching the sun set gave him a sense of peace and time for reflection.

The Cadets were kept busy all day and every day learning how each department of a warship worked. This week he had been attached to the Seaman department, working with the sailors, keeping watch with them, and cleaning and maintaining the ship with them. Today he and several others painted part of the forward superstructure, which the ever watchful eye of the Commander had spotted as needing sprucing up before the next port of call.

As the final sliver of sun dipped below the horizon John yawned. Before heading below to sling his hammock his thoughts turned back to England, but not his parents' home near Shotley, it was the hills of the Lake District that came to mind. In particular watching the sun set over the shoulder of the great hill they had called Kanchenjunga. It seemed a lifetime since they climbed that mountain, camping out in the open just above the treeline. Was it really only five summers ago? Thinking of those carefree holidays spent on and around the lake of reminded him again of Nancy, not that she was ever very far from his thoughts. Over the years they had grown close without realising it. The last evening they were together she had given him a copy of _Knight on Sailing_ and a little painting she had done of the sailing dinghy _Swallow._ Both were now below in his sea chest, treasured keepsakes of an evening that remained etched in his memory as the first time they kissed and acknowledged their feelings for each other. They had embraced again the following morning before catching the train home but with his mother and the rest of their families present that had been a more chaste moment, a quick hug, a brief touch of hands and a peck on the cheek. But even that had conveyed emotion. John had had to blink hard and turn away in case he made a fool of himself. Even now the memory of it brought a lump to his throat.

Now he was thousands of miles from the lake and Nancy. Tomorrow the ship would anchor off a real tropical island and there would be an opportunity for shore leave and some shopping. He wanted to find something special to take back for Nancy but had no idea what he was looking for. Hopefully he would find something appropriate. After all the Caribbean was the Spanish Main of old, the haunt of pirates and buccaneers.

The following morning the hands were called half an hour earlier than usual in preparation for arrival. Because of her size _Frobisher_ was not going alongside but anchoring off in the bay. Still working with the seamen John was stationed on the fo'c'sle with the cable party. He watched with intense interest as both anchors were prepared for letting go. Various lashings and strops were released until just one slip was all that kept the anchor from running out.

As the ship slid closer to her appointed anchorage a signalman on the bridge wing indicated to cable party the distance to go. His counterpart on the fo'c'sle called out the distances and John repeated them so all could hear. "Three cables to go... two cables... one cable... half a cable..." The ship started to vibrate as the engines went astern to stop her. "LET GO!"

A seaman swung a sledge hammer releasing the final restraint that secured the cable and _Frobisher's_ starboard anchor plunged into the clear water of the bay. The chain rushed out in flurry of rust and paint flakes as the ship dropped astern. The signalman displayed the appropriate flags as a Bosun's Mate called out the amount of cable. "Three shackles… four shackles…"

The propellers stopped again and the initial rush of cable slowed. A signal from the bridge, "Veer to six shackles on deck."

Slowly now the chain paid out. "Stop!" shouted the Bosun's Mate, "Six shackles on deck sir." he reported to the officer supervising the cable party.

There was a pause until the order came to secure the fo'c'sle. The port anchor, which had been made ready in case there was a problem with the other, was secured. Lashings were put on the starboard cable so it would not run out further. All in all it took some time to stow all the gear to the Chief Bosun's Mate's satisfaction and the cable party dismissed.

It had been a long morning but John was pleased had had the opportunity to see close up the procedure for anchoring. The lectures and demonstration models at Dartmouth had been good, but it all made more sense when performed for real. Now he was looking forward to going ashore.

It was mid afternoon when John went ashore with some of his fellow Cadets. As they landed a group of locals crowded around offering various services:

"Let me show you round sirs…"

"My taxi is very good sir, very clean…"

"Show you the best bars on the island..."

They managed to convince the touts that they could look after themselves and made their way to the centre of town. Trying to look like seasoned travellers and not wide-eyed tourists the group progressed slowly up the main street. The sights and sounds that assailed them were so different from home. Open-fronted shops displayed their wares; fruit, vegetables, brightly coloured clothes, and everywhere seemed to have bottles of rum for sale. An enticing smell from a small shop caused them to stop and investigate. Inside a large lady in a brightly coloured dress was cooking meat and fish on a charcoal grill and serving it with fresh vegetables.

"Smells good. Shall we try some?" suggested one of the Cadets.

"Why not? I'm famished." responded one of the others.

"You're as bad as my brother, he's always famished." declared John, "Still I reckon I could manage some myself."

The little group managed to squeeze around one of the small tables outside the shop and decided to get some of both the meat and the fish to try. "By the way, what sort of meat is it?" asked one.

"Local goat, very tasty." replied the woman.

John immediately started to laugh. "Come on Walker, what's the joke?" asked one.

"It's nothing really. An old friend of mine is always using the expression 'barbequed billygoats' and this is the first time I've actually come across it real life."

"Walker you're one of the strangest chaps I know. Normally you're calm, cool, professional, really officer-like, and then you come out with nonsense like that!"

Feeling older than their years they ordered rum punches all round to accompany the food. Talk soon turned to their programme for the next few days. "Official cocktail party this evening, ship open for visitors tomorrow afternoon and Cadet Regatta the day after." stated one authoritatively. "First part of the Port Watch are detailed off for the party tonight, Starboard are acting as hosts for tomorrow."

"Has each watch sorted out their crews for the regatta yet?"

"Well First Starboard have our helmsman for the whaler sailing. Haven't we Walker?" This was accompanied by a friendly slap on the back for John. He spluttered over a mouthful of fish.

"Well it seems that way but I don't know if I am the best man for it."

"Come off it, you're probably the best sailor in our term. You could sail rings round the rest of us at Dartmouth."

Embarrassed John felt his face redden, but acknowledged the compliment with a grin, "Alright, I was good in the dinghies but the whaler is a different beast; two masts, three sails, and they must weigh a couple tons."

"What rot, you can manage anything with sails. I wish you were in our part of watch, then we would win something."

The chat around the table then became more general. John was quiet for while. He knew he was a good sailor, but had not realised his term-mates thought so highly of him. He always did his best but it sounded like he was already marked down as winner, and he did not want to let down the others.

After they had finished the food the group split up. John and a friend wanted to shop for presents to take home, the others decided to stay and have another round of rum punches.

Soon after leaving the others they found a shop selling jewellery, much of it made from coral. Although he could not ever remember seeing Nancy wearing anything more than a wristwatch John was certain there was something there she would like. After looking for many minutes there were so many things that he felt sure would look good on her that he nearly gave up in frustration. Eventually he narrowed it down to three pendants. He turned to his companion who had already selected a pair of earrings for his sister. "Look Martin, you seem to have an eye for this sort of stuff. I can't decide which of these she'd like best. What do you think?"

"Not knowing the lady in question it's going to be difficult. What sort of dresses does she wear, high cut and demure or is she the bold type with her cleavage on display?"

John was stumped, "I don't know. She's the bold type alright, but hardly ever wears dresses, she's more tomboy than glamour girl. Shorts and shirts are more her line"

"What about her colouring. Is she blonde, brunette, a redhead? Dark and fiery, pale and interesting? Would one of these compliment her eyes?"

"Oh! She's sort of dark-ish. Her eyes are a wonderful hazel colour that changes with the light, and they have a light of their own that makes it look as if she is always about to laugh."

"Good God! You have got it bad! Look if I were you I'd play it safe and get this one with the coral centre and the tiny pearls. It will go well with most things and if she is a smitten with you as you seem to be with her she'd love anything you give her."

"Are you sure? It's the most expensive of the three."

"If she is as good as you imply, she's worth every penny."

"Right, you've convinced me. I'll bow to your superior knowledge. Blow the cost, I'll get her that one. Not a word to the other chaps though, please."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know if you think I am getting carried away with technicalities. I always liked the details of navigation and seamanship that Arthur Ransome included in his writing, so I try to emulate it in my own poor way.


	4. Regatta Day

_Frobisher_ was no longer the only warship anchored in the bay. She had been joined by the cruiser _HMS Dragon_ , part of the West Indies squadron. Her presence was the reason the regatta was being held here. For although _Frobisher_ carried extra boats in her role as a training ship there were insufficient to provide four of each type required for the events. The Admiralty arranged the ships' programmes to coincide here so _Dragon's_ boats could be added to those of _Frobisher_.

As his colleagues predicted John was chosen to skipper the whaler for their part of watch in the Cadets' sailing race. The previous morning, after helping fetch boats from _Dragon,_ he had been able to spend an hour or so on the water with his crew practicing the standard drills for tacking and gybing the heavy whaler. With its short mizzen mast near the sternpost the whaler was not steered with a tiller but with a yoke and lines that passed either side of the mast. John disliked this arrangement as it there was less feel of how the boat responded than when using a tiller. He drilled the crew hard during their period on the water, spending much of the time improving their technique for dipping the heavy lugsail yard when they tacked. He knew one of the keys to sailing the whaler well was to get the sails drawing on the new tack as soon as possible before she lost much speed.

The first part of the regatta day was the pulling races; cutter, whaler and gig crews were all put through their paces. John pulled as part of the cutter's crew for his watch. It was not a distinguished performance by the crew and they were only just saved from the ignominy of fourth and last place by another crew losing the stoke completely and getting their oars entangled.

After lunch John's crew assembled in good time. The Cadets' Training Officer explained the course to the four skippers. "The start line is from _Frobisher's_ bridge to a buoy laid between _Frobisher_ and _Dragon_. Then it is upwind to a cutter which will be anchored as the windward mark, they will fly a green flag to identify themselves when in position. Pass that to port. _Dragon_ is the next mark, leave her to port as well. Then it is round the stern of _Frobisher_ before rounding the windward mark and _Dragon_ again. Then straight to the finishing line which is the same as the start. Any questions about the course?"

Everyone must have understood as there were no questions.

The Training Officer continued, "The start will be the usual sequence. At ten minutes to go we'll fire a gun and hoist flag "W" as the class flag. At five minutes there will be another gun and the Preparative will be hoisted. A final gun will signify the start when both flags will be hauled down. I will show a red flag if anyone is over the line at the start and hoist their number. Any who are over the line must go around the buoy at the end before re-starting. Any questions?"

The four skippers shook their heads.

"Good. Remember your rules of the road and good luck. May the best crew win."

The crews all manned their boats and made their way to the start line. The trade wind had increased in strength since the morning and was now a fresh breeze blowing parallel to the coast. The boats' movements were quite lively in the waves that built up. Enough to catch out the unwary and inattentive.

John put his crew through a few practice tacks and gybes getting the measure of the wind as they sailed up and down the line waiting for the start. He noted approvingly how well they worked together after the previous day's practice. With the sails set as near perfectly as possible the heavy boat responded well. The wind was stronger than it had been the day before and some spray had already come aboard making the bottom boards slippery. They also took the opportunity to observe how their rivals managed their boats. It was clear that one, crewed by the second part of the Port watch, was handled very well indeed and would be a tough challenge to beat. The other two were not quite as proficient. Little mistakes like not sheeting in quite quickly enough after tacking showed they had their weaknesses.

A quick check of his watch showed John the start was less than fifteen minutes away. The cutter that was acting as the windward mark was now a long way up wind and had hoisted the green flag.

Time to tack again.

"Ready about!" John called. The crew all signalled their readiness, "Lee ho!", John heaved on the tiller line and the bows came up to the wind, the jib started to shiver, one Cadet unhooked the tack, another eased the mainsheet so the yard could be dipped round the mast, the jib was held on the old side for a moment to help blow the bow round and then allowed to cross to the new leeward side. There was then a cry from one of the Cadets and a commotion as the sails ran out instead of sheeting home.

"What's happened?"

"It's Collins, he slipped and got his hand caught in a block with a rope running out. It looks pretty nasty."

"Are you able to carry on Collins?" asked John.

"I think so, but it's bleeding rather badly. Look!" The hand he held up was covered in blood, which ran down over his wrist and forearm.

One of the others took a closer look and shouted back, "It a very deep gash and there might be broken finger as well!"

"Right, do what you can and we'll take him back to the ship."

Fortunately the new tack was already taking them back towards _Frobisher_. So there was no need to tack again. The crew got the flapping sails back under control. One of the Cadets opened the boat's first aid kit and wrapped a bandage around Collins' injured hand while John steered back to the ship. As they headed across he heard a gun for the ten minute signal. Unless they were really slick they would miss the start.

John looked at the decreasing distance back to _Frobisher_ and decided that if he judged it correctly he could bring the whaler to the aft gangway without lowering the sails. Providing they eased the sails and lost just enough way in time.

"Ease the main" he called and the boat started to slow. "Ease it some more… that's good."

"I'll come head to wind in the minute, as she comes round let the jib fly and stand by with the boathook to grab the bottom of the accommodation ladder. If we miss it we'll have to go around again and I don't want that with half the ship's company watching us."

The accommodation ladder seemed to rush towards them. John hailed the quarterdeck, indicated the bandaged hand and asked permission to come alongside. The Assistant Officer of the Day acknowledged them and shouted that they were clear to come in.

A bang from above indicated the start of the race was only five minutes away. John barely heard it as he concentrated on getting the boat into exactly the right position at the first attempt. "Ready with the boathook? Stand by… stand by… coming up to wind now!" he shouted as the sails flapped noisily. "Let the jib fly!"

The boat was a little further off than John had intended, but a masterful lunge with the boathook caught a stanchion and brought them alongside. Two members of the ship's duty watch helped the unfortunate Collins up the ladder as they shoved off.

"Sheet in hard. We'll head straight for the line. Who knows how long it is to the start?"

Before anyone could answer a third report reverberated around the bay. The race had started and they were already a poor fourth.

"Come on men," exhorted John, "It's a long race, we've just to sail this boat like no-one's done before and we'll catch them up."

The crew worked together with a will. Even short of one member the tacks were slicker than ever. As expected the other three boats rounded the windward mark well ahead of them but it was obvious that they had closed the gap significantly during that first leg. The cutter's crew cheered them on as John passed them as close as he dared before bearing away on to a broad reach down towards the _Dragon_. The other boats were also performing well on this point of sailing and no more distance was made up on the two leading boats, but they did gain on the third place boat, which was not steering so well down the waves and tending to broach.

The grey cruiser rapidly got closer and John started thinking about the gybe. Should he pass really close under the stern but lose the wind for a few moments or should he stand off a little more. He watched the first boats go round and decided to stay as close to the _Dragon_ as possible.

Two boats had now rounded the _Dragon's_ stern. The third was preparing for her gybe. As John watched the helmsman mistimed his turn. A wave lifted the stern as he started to turn to port. As the boat came round the wave tilted her over to starboard. Panicking, the helmsman tried to bear away again, but the press of wind and water was too much and the sails banged across as the stern passed through the wind. The boat heeled further and took water over the side.

Not wanting to make the same mistake John judged the moment to gybe perfectly. They swung round while on the crest of a wave and did not lose a yard on the boats ahead as they surged past the other boat, whose unfortunate crew had started to bail. Now they were on the third leg heading towards _Frobisher_ and in third place, only two to make up now.

On this leg, a beam reach, the whaler was travelling as fast as she was ever likely to go. While the wind was aft on the previous leg they had not noticed how much stronger it had become. The sails were set in hard curves as if made from beaten steel and John could see it was more difficult to keep the mainsail sheeted in against the pressure of the wind.

Again cutting it close they passed under the stern of the training ship before sheeting in hard for the beat to windward. Bursts of spray flew from the bows as the whaler thrashed along with all the crew up on the windward side keeping her as level as possible. So busy were John and the crew with their own sailing that they had not noticed the distance they made up on the boat in second place. When they next came on to starboard tack they saw they were closing fast. But the other was on port tack. Was there enough room for them to pass safely ahead? No, and the other had to bear away to pass under their stern. Second place now. Only the leader to catch.

Both boats were on starboard tack heading for the cutter at the windward mark. John judged that they were overhauling the other but far too slowly. Unless they could over take before rounding the mark it was unlikely they would catch up much more down wind.

John checked the bearing of the cutter. Yes, it would be close but they would just make it. He lost sight of the other whaler behind the sails. "Where's the other boat gone?" he asked.

"About five boat lengths away. Fine on our port bow."

"Are you sure? We're only just going to weather the mark."

"Yes, he has slipped a little to leeward. He's going to have to tack! He's tacking now!"

Risking a quick look under the sail John watched the other boat come about. Having to tack twice would certainly lose them the lead.

Sure enough they had slowed as they came about, then had to give way as they were now on port. John's crew gave them an ironic cheer as the other passed inches astern of them before tacking back to round the cutter.

The remainder of the race was almost an anti-climax. The two boats' crews were so evenly matched that unless one made a mistake little would change. Neither gave an inch as they raced downwind, gybed safely round the _Dragon_ , then hardened up to the finishing line. There was less than a boat's length of clear water between them as they crossed the line.

"Well done everybody." called John as they turned for home. "That was great effort. Three cheers for the others for giving us such a good race. Hip Hip…"

"Hooray." they all shouted as they bore away towards _Frobisher_ and home. Answering cheers rang across the water as both crews acknowledged each others' skill. More cheers were given as the third whaler crossed the line.

As they headed back to the _Frobisher_ John was surprised to discover he was absolutely spent. The concentration needed to keep the boat sailing at her best had left him exhausted. He had never imagined that simply helming could leave him so drained.

They lay alongside the ship while preparing the boat for hoisting on her davits. They took down the sails, neatly rolling them round the spars before stowing them away, then lifted out the masts and laid them alongside the sails. Finally they could signal to the deck that the whaler was ready to hoist aboard.

Once on deck the remainder of their part of watch crowded round to congratulate them.

"Well done chaps. We've not seen the final results but we may have just won overall after that."

"Watch out the TO's coming!"

The Cadets all drew themselves up as the Training Officer approached. "Well done lads. That was good sailing. Now Walker, how many in the crew of a whaler?"

John paused, was this a trick question? "Six, Sir."

"Good. How many did you race with?"

"Five, Sir. We had to land Cadet Collins because he was injured."

"So, you admit you sailed with the incorrect crew. The normal penalty is disqualification." As one the faces of the crew fell. The elation of their win disappeared in an instant. "However," continued the Training Officer, "I have spoken to the Boats Officer who was overseeing all today's events, and he was very impressed by your seamanship and teamwork this afternoon. He also agrees that an injury to a crew member counts as a special situation as there was no time to obtain a replacement. Therefore he says that the result of the whaler sailing race will stand."

John, his crew and other members of their part of watch that were standing near were transformed again. Gone were the glum expressions of a few moments ago replaced with grins and cheers. His colleagues were thumping him on the back, and the whole crew was feted as if they had won the America's Cup, not just a one-off event that no-one, except the participants, would recall after a few weeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone has knowledge of the correct flags that were used to start and control a sailing race in the 1930s I would be very grateful to learn of them.


	5. A Train Journey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is summer 1936

"Thank goodness they've gone, "said Nancy as the departing passengers closed the compartment door behind them. "I've accused Peg of being a chatterbox in the past but that woman never stopped. Jiminy, I don't know how her husband could put up with it!"

"He must either be a saint or completely deaf." agreed John, "Hopefully we have the compartment to ourselves for a while now."

"I certainly hope so." said Nancy moving up closer.

John took her hand in his and other than the rhythmic beat of the train's wheels on the track time passed in companionable silence.

Eventually Nancy roused herself, "Well Skipper, or should I call you Midshipman now?"

"Officially it's not Midshipman for a few weeks, but you can use it now if you must." he grinned. "By the way, I noticed you have stopped calling me Commodore."

"Titty mentioned in one of her letters that you got teased by the others. So I thought it best to drop it, in public anyway. She knew you were too polite to mention it yourself."

John made a mental note that here was something else he had to thank his middle sister for. She was the least vocal in the family but often knew what he was thinking better than he did himself. He had only mentioned the incident briefly to her while at home during the Christmas break, but obviously she had remembered and mentioned it one of her regular letters to Nancy.

"Shall we forget the Navy for a while and just be us?"

"Shiver my timbers, I've nearly forgotten how to be just me! I've been concentrating so hard on being a young lady it's difficult switching back."

"It wasn't all posh frocks and best behaviour was it?"

"No, but I'm sure that dragon of a landlady at the boarding house went to the same school as the Great Aunt. 'No visitors allowed upstairs, only in the sitting room. The front door is locked at 11 o'clock. Sixpence extra for a hot bath'", she mimicked.

"Poor you. Mother and father were alright, I hope?"

"They were fine. I'm so glad you arranged for me to stay in the same place as them. When the dragon discovered your father was a full Captain she was fawning all over them, 'Captain Walker would you like some more toast? Mrs Walker shall I pour tea?'. I don't how we kept straight faces at times."

"I so glad you could come down for the Ball and the passing-out parade. It's the major event of the year for us Cadets."

"I really enjoyed it. I've not been to anything like that before. You all looked so smart in your best uniforms, but so serious too."

"You looked wonderful too in that dress. I don't think I've seen you in a dress since you had to wear those ridiculous party frocks for your Great Aunt."

"And that pendant you bought went perfectly with the dress. It must have been fate that made you choose that one."

"Not fate. It was another Cadet. He picked some jewellery for his sister and I asked his advice and he went for that one. I couldn't work out what would look good on you. Even with three sisters I don't know much about ladies' fashions."

"However it was chosen it was perfect. But do you know what was the best part of the Ball?"

"It was all good wasn't it?"

"Spending the time with you. Not just dancing together, though you are surprisingly good -"

"Thank you very much" John interrupted pointedly, "Did you expect me to fall over your feet or something?"

"I didn't mean it like that. You could see some of the Cadets were not used to dancing with real girls. They held their partners as if they expected them to explode." Both laughed at the image this conjured up.

"Do you know what I remember most of all?" asked John.

"The food?"

"No, my name's John, not Roger."

"What then?"

"It was we went outside to cool down and we looked out over the river and down to the sea. Do you remember what you said?"

"I spouted a lot of nonsense that night, but I think it was something about wanting us to be together for ever. And you said that forever is very long time."

"And then?"

"John Walker you know perfectly well what happened next."

"I think I did this." John pulled Nancy closer and planted a kiss on her cheek, "Then I said something trite like 'Nancy I love you' and did this." This time the kiss was full on the lips and lasted much longer. He broke away. "That's what I remember, I hope you do too."

"You utter idiot. Of course I remember, and what's more I love you too."

At that moment the door to the compartment opened and the guard stepped in. "Sorry to disturb you, but can I see your tickets please?"

John blushed scarlet while rummaging in his pocket for their tickets and was glad the guard had not opened the door a few seconds earlier. Nancy just smiled sweetly. John produced the tickets, which the guard duly clipped, "Thank you Sir. Thank you Miss. Enjoy the rest of your journey."

As the guard left Nancy let out a burst of laughter, "Oh John, you should have seen your expression when he came in. You looked like you'd been caught red-handed at some terrible crime."

"Do you think he heard anything?"

"Who cares? He's probably seen and heard far worse before now. Anyway we are not likely to ever meet him again. " Nancy gave one of her grins then turned serious again, "There was something else I learned. "

"What's that?"

"I realise now how much the Navy must mean to you. I used to think it was like any other job, like teaching or working in a bank, it just meant going away a lot more. Now I can see it is a life of it's own and I shall have to share you with the Navy." Nancy looked regretful as she said it, then her expression changed back to her familiar grin, "Cheer up Skipper, I'd rather share you than not have you at all. Now we have a whole week before you head back south again."

"What have you got planned? You've said nothing at all about next week."

Nancy half turned to look John in the face, "To be honest I've nothing planned. I just want to spend some time with you. Go sailing of course, maybe revisit some of the old places again before you have to leave. Places like Swallowdale. Perhaps climb Kanchenjunga again."

"You know that would be great, after Dartmouth and the training ship spending time without the pressure of knowing someone's watching over your shoulder all the time will be such a change."

"It doesn't seem to have done you much harm. First Prize for Seamanship wasn't it?"

"That's just Dartmouth , I don't know how I'll do in the real Navy."

"Real Navy!" Nancy hooted, "You make what you've been through sound like a game!"

"Sometimes that what it seems like." John admitted, "You play by their rules and do your best and hope you come out on the winning side. Surely you found the same at school?"

"I suppose so, but then I don't like playing by the rules all the time. Look at the trouble I got into at home sometimes. Mother was always trying to get me and Peg to be better behaved, but you could tell her heart wasn't always in it. Something to do with losing father when we were young, and I think she wasn't always a perfect angel when she was young either.

"Jiminy, are we coming to the next station already? We have to change here. Come on Skipper, let's get those bags down."

It was late afternoon when they finally arrived at the station above the lake. Mrs Blackett was waiting with Rattletrap to take them back to Beckfoot. John was surprised to see Peggy was not with her.

"Peggy still has a week left at school." Mrs Blackett explained, "She won't be back at Beckfoot until Friday."

As she drove Mrs Blackett fired off a constant stream of questions, wanting to know all about Dartmouth and the Ball, and she directed these alternately at John and Nancy, usually turning to speak to them. Unfortunately this did nothing to improve her driving.

Finally Nancy managed to interrupt the flow, "Mother can you take us to the club first? I want John to meet the new Great Aunt."

"A new Great Aunt? queried John, "I thought you only had the one and she's gone now."

"Shiver my timbers skipper, this one is entirely different. You'll see."

"Alright Nancy," said her mother "but you mustn't be too long. I've told cook to have a meal ready when we get in. I expect you are both hungry after the journey. How rude!" This last directed at a cyclist who shook his fist at her as Rattletrap passed closer than was really safe.

To John's surprise Mrs Blackett turned off the main road that led around the lake and took a smaller one leading to a building at the water's edge.

"Lakeside Sailing Club," he read as they passed a sign, "what are we doing here?"

"Just a minute, you'll see."

Mrs Blackett pulled up in a gravelled space beside the building, "Now don't take too long. Remember what I said about the meal."

Nancy jumped out. "Don't fuss so mother. We shall only be a few minutes."

Moments later she stood beside a sailing dinghy with a green canvas cover to keep off the weather. "Here she is. Meet the new Great Aunt."

"Great Aunt?"

"Yes, see." Nancy loosened the ties securing the back of the cover and lifted it enough to read the name on the transom. There in clear, black letters was the name _Amita Magna_.

"I see, but why name her after the GA?"

"The money we get for the rent on the GA's old house is plenty enough to buy a new boat so we thought it fair to name it after her, and by using Latin it isn't so obvious." While talking Nancy finished untying the cover and pulled it off in a heap. "There, what do you think of her?" She asked with obvious pride in her voice.

"She's beautiful. Why don't you keep her at Beckfoot?"

"Look at the height of that mast. She wouldn't fit in the boat house with it up and it would be too much bother to take it down and set it up it every time. We got her specially to race here at Lakeside, though she is so new we have only taken her out a couple of times. When we get used to her she should be the fastest boat of her size on the lake."

"What about _Amazon_? Surely you haven't got rid of her?"

"Jib-booms and bobstays! Of course not! The GA is mostly for racing. She'd be no use for carrying camping stuff to Wild Cat Island or going on picnics. _Amazon_ is special because she was our first boat and she still gets plenty of use. We have to use her to get over here to start with."

An impatient toot on a horn reminded them that Mrs Blackett was waiting with Rattletrap.

"Coming, mother!" Nancy shouted. "Come on Mr Midshipman, give me hand to get the cover back on will you. It's beastly stiff with being so new, and much easier with two."

Working together they replaced the cover on _Amita Magna_ while Nancy started to explain how they got the new boat.

"You see it all started with something Peggy said back in the Easter Hols... That's right, you have to pull it really tight to stop it sagging. Yes, Peggy said something that I had wondered about but not said anything." Just then another toot on the horn interrupted her. "Alright Mother. We've nearly finished. I'll explain later Skipper."


	6. Evening At Beckfoot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Although this chapter does not strictly fit the original aim of "John Walker RN" it deserves a place here.

Back in the car following the road round the lake to Beckfoot Mrs Blackett's continuous cheerful chatter did not give Nancy an opportunity to explain any further about how she and Peggy came to be the owners of a new boat.

At the house Mrs Blackett fussed around making sure John had everything he needed in the spare room. Uncle Jim arrived, having rowed up the lake from the houseboat to greet John and his niece, and joined them for the huge meal that Mrs Blackett insisted that John and Nancy had after their journey. Finally, after they had eaten their fill, they were able to escape to the terrace, where Uncle Jim was enjoying his after dinner pipe. There, with the sun starting to sink behind the western hills, Nancy told the story, with a few prompts and corrections from her uncle.

**Three months earlier**

The Easter holidays had started but the weather was grey and stormy. Nancy irritably threw down the book she was trying to read, walked to the window, and looked out over the lake. "Botheration!" she grumbled. "A fine holiday this will be. The Swallows are staying down south, the Ds have gone to the Broads again and we are stuck here in the wind and rain. Conditions are far too awful for sailing so it's just not worth planning anything."

Her sister looked up from her book. "Nancy there is something I've wondered about for while but I didn't like to mention. I don't know what you and Uncle Jim will think of it though."

"Well spit it out then Peggy you galoot!"

"How long have we had _Amazon_ now? Six years?"

Nancy considered for a moment, "No, it'll be seven years this summer since Uncle Jim bought her for us. Why?"

"Do you every think of getting another boat?"

"Why? What's wrong with _Amazon_?" Nancy was immediately defensive. She was captain of _Amazon_ and considered any criticism of the boat a personal slight.

"Nothing is wrong with her, but do you ever think we could get a more modern boat and join the racing? Amazon is fine boat for exploring the lake and picnics and going to Wild Cat Island, but she is a bit slow compared to some modern boats."

Nancy looked at her mate in surprise. Peggy had voiced something she had occasionally thought of herself but had always put to the back of her mind as being disloyal to _Amazon_. "We could ask Uncle Jim about it. He knows some of the people over at the Lakeside Sailing Club, but they're all a bit snooty and sail those ridiculously expensive boats."

"No, not the big ones, there's that new fourteen foot class with the tall masts and the two sails."

"You know Peg I think you might have something there! Is that what that brother and sister from over at Lower Garside sail?"

"I think so. They are supposed to be really good."

"Hmm, as good as us. I think not! I'll see what Uncle Jim says"

A few seconds later, Nancy, swiftly followed by Peggy, burst in on her uncle in his study. He knew at once from the set of her jaw that she was determined to get her own way about something. He pushed away some papers he was reading and gave her his full attention. "What is it Nancy ? I was just going through the latest figures from that mine you lot discovered."

"Uncle Jim, how much money are we getting from the rent on Great Aunt Maria's old house?"

"I have not got the exact figures to hand but it's probably more than you two deserve. You must have impressed the old girl in the end, though I don't know how you did it. Why do you want to know? Neither you nor Peggy seem to have many wants. Fortunately you don't try to follow all the latest fashions."

"Would there be enough to buy a new boat?"

"Oh, that's what you're after. I had expected you to be looking for something more exciting than _Amazon_ before now."

"It's not that we don't appreciate _Amazon_ , she's a splendid boat, we just wondered if we could get a second boat, for racing. Like the fourteen footers."

"Well, that sounds a good idea in principle. We could go over to the Lakeside and see if there are any boats for sale. Afterwards we could drop in at the boatyard and speak to old James. I think they've built a few over the last couple of years. It's not worth going this afternoon. I doubt if there will be anyone at the club, but tomorrow should be fine. If the weather stays like this we'd better take Rattletrap rather than the launch."

"Thank you Uncle Jim." Nancy gave her uncle a sudden hug.

o – o – O – o – o

The next morning Uncle Jim carefully parked Rattletrap between a pair of yachts in the boatyard, and with Nancy and Peggy went in search of James, the boat builder who owned the yard. From experience he knew he was unlikely to be found in the little office. From one of the big sheds came the sound of sawing. Dodging the puddles, Uncle Jim led the way through an open door. Inside the air had the exciting boatyard smell comprising a mixture of freshly sawn wood, paint, varnish and tarred rope.

"Hello!" called Uncle Jim, "Is James about?"

From behind a partially completed yacht a figure appeared, "No, he had a fall a couple of weeks back and broke his collarbone. I'm in charge until he gets back to work."

"Robert isn't it?"

"That's right, and you're Mr Turner from over at Beckfoot. Didn't we build a dinghy for your friends a couple of years back? Before that we fixed Mr Jackson's boat for you and have slipped that launch of yours as well. Is it the launch needing attention again?"

"Not this time. My nieces here are hankering after a new boat as they are looking at joining the fourteen footer fleet. There's nothing for sale at the club so we thought we'd see what you can do in the way of new boat."

"Well we can certainly come up with a few ideas. Come into the office and we can discuss possibilities over some tea. I'll get young Mike to join us, he's got plenty of new ideas."

Robert shouted across to the yacht he had been working on, "Hey! Ben! Si!" Two heads appeared. "One of you find Mike and tell him to join us in the office. Then you two carry on with that decking." He then led the way to the lean-to office beside the main shed.

While Robert busied himself with the kettle and mugs Nancy and Peggy examined some of the pictures on the walls of the office. Some were of lake craft similar to those they saw everyday, others were of bigger boats, far too big for the lake. Nancy was just about to ask about these when the door opened and a tall, young man with a shock of blond hair walked in.

"Ah, Mike," said Robert, "Let me introduce Mr Turner and his nieces, Ru..." He paused as Nancy cleared her throat and glared at him, "Sorry, I mean Nancy, and Peggy Blackett. Mr Turner this is my nephew Mike."

The newcomer wiped his hands on his overalls and shook hands with the three visitors. "Pleased to meet you all."

"Mike has recently joined us from a yard on the Thames and wants to look at how we do things compared to the southerners. He's got lots of new ideas that sometimes seem a bit strange to us. Now, if you're happy with your tea shall we get down to business? What is it you are looking for?"

"Well," said Uncle Jim, "It's for my nieces here. They are reasonably competent sailors." Nancy shot him a look to say they were more than competent, but her uncle pretended not to see it. "They have been sailing their boat for a while and are looking for something more challenging and a bit faster. Maybe something that could race on the lake with the Fourteens"

"Will they both crew for you at once or one at a time?" asked Mike.

"Goodness, neither. I'm far too old and large to be racing a little dinghy now." laughed Uncle Jim. "They are quite capable enough to manage a boat by themselves."

"These young ladies are rather more than the competent sailors Mr Turner described them as," explained Robert. "In fact I would say they are among the best for their age you would find anywhere on this lake." At this remark Nancy and Peggy exchanged pleased looks,

"I see," said Mike. "So what do you sail now?"

" _Amazon_ , she's about thirteen feet long , with a balanced lug rig." replied Nancy .

"Right. And you're looking to start in a Fourteen. Have you sailed a Bermudan rigged sloop before? If not you'll find it rather different from what you are used to."

"No, but it can't be that different, surely."

"You'll be surprised. Although one would only be slightly longer than your existing boat it would be a lot lighter, faster, point closer to the wind, and with two sails would be more powerful and keeping her balanced would keep a crew of two busy all the time. In fact quite a challenge to sail"

Nancy grinned, "Sounds like fun."

"So it is. Great fun. I sailed similar boats when I was about your age, but that was on the Thames. A boat suited to the lake will have some different characteristics compared to a river boat but I'm sure there are some features we should copy. I guess this is why Robert has asked me to look at this project, to shake you lakesiders out of your old ways."

This sort of talk was just what Nancy liked to hear. "Sounds good. When will you start?" she asked.

Both the boat builders laughed at this. "Hold on," said Robert. "This will take a little time. It's not like when we built that dinghy for your friends. That was building a copy of an existing boat. If you really want a good racing boat that meets class rules and is suited to your weight and capability there will be a lot of design features to work out and of course there is the small matter of cost. This will be considerably more than a simple boat like your _Amazon_." He addressed Uncle Jim, "Is there a limit on costs for this project Mr Turner?"

"Well obviously there is a limit, but providing you don't try pulling the wool over our eyes we'll meet the fair market price. Can we discuss the financial side of things when Mike has a design or two on paper?"

"That's fair Mr Turner. Now I propose to let young Mike here have a reasonably free hand with the design. He's been working on our existing projects so far and a challenge like this will show us what he can do. What do you say Mike?"

"That's fine by me. Can I spend some time with these young ladies and then sketch some ideas?"

"How does that suit you all?" Robert asked Uncle Jim and his nieces.

"Suits me," replied Uncle Jim, "I have few errands to run in town while I'm here. Will an hour be long enough?"

"That should do for a first session but I expect we'll need quite a few sessions to finalise all the details."

"Well mind these two behave themselves. I'll see you later. Goodbye Robert, Mike." Uncle Jim picked up his hat and headed outside.

"Right," said Robert as the door closed, "There should be a copy of the class rules somewhere about. I'll look those out for you Mike so you can see what the restrictions are. The couple we built were really copies of an older design, a completely new boat could put this yard on the map if it was to be successful and would pull in some new business. That would impress old James no end. Then I must get back to the shed and keep an eye on what those lads are doing."

Mike turned to Nancy and Peggy, "Right ladies let's start by looking at a real Fourteen. There's one in the other shed that has been in for a freshen up before the season starts. We can go through the main points first and I can then sketch a hull shape."

"There's something I want you to do before we go any further." asserted Nancy.

"Oh dear, that sounds ominous."

"It's nothing too difficult," continued Nancy, "I just want you to stop calling us 'Ladies'. I'm Nancy and this is Peggy. Otherwise you sound like one of the old men."

"Alright, if you insist." laughed Mike, "Nancy and Peggy it is then."

The next hour passed quickly. Mike was obviously an enthusiastic sailor as well as a builder of boats. He showed them the boat that the yard had in for maintenance, using it to show his idea of what the ideal lake boat would be like.

His stories of racing dinghies on the River Thames kept them enthralled as he talked about sheer, camber, hull rocker, high aspect rigs, advantages and disadvantages of different hull shapes. Nancy understood about half of it, Peggy rather less. Later both agreed that not only did he know a lot about boats and sailing but he was also good looking and of a different mould to the majority of young men locally.

It was with great regret that they said goodbye to Mike when Uncle Jim returned.

"Thank you Nancy, Peggy. I'll start getting some of these ideas down on paper this afternoon." promised Mike. "If you want to come over in a day or two Mr Turner, there should be something to look at and you can decide whether to take this further or not."

"And that," said Uncle Jim "was how it started. It took rather more than day or two to get a design sketched out, and fair bit longer to produce a working drawing. Old James is a bit set in his ways and couldn't see why Mike wanted the hull shape he did. In the end Mike and Robert talked the old boy round and he approved the design. The result is what you saw over at Lakeside."

"She certainly looks a beauty." said John. "Father always says that if a boat looks right it probably is right. So how does she handle?"

"Once you get used to her she's a dream." Replied Nancy. "Where she's quite light you've got to work harder to keep her balanced much more than with _Amazon_. If you're not quick enough you could be over in flash. You must try her while you're here."

"I would really like that, thank you. Have you and Peggy actually raced the GA yet?"

"Not yet. Once Peggy's home for the hols we will enter for everything we can. Mike and Robert at the boat yard are both keen to see how she performs against the other boats."

John looked out over the lake, which was so still it reflected the trees and hills around the shoreline like a mirror. "If it stays like this there won't be any sailing tomorrow."

"If there's no wind how about climbing Kanchenjunga again?" suggested Nancy.

"Yes, I've only been to the top once. Remember how you had to dodge the Great Aunt to leave the rowing boat out for us?"

Uncle Jim looked up "I keep hearing snippets of what you got up to when our backs were turned. I wonder sometimes if Aunt Maria did us a good turn by making Nancy and Peggy think of ways of evading her. You know what they say about necessity being the mother of invention. What would they have turned out like if they had always done her bidding? Molly and I were nearly as bad at times though." His face took on a distant expression as he remembered the days of his youth.

"Well," he continued, "mention of the rowing boat reminds me I must be getting back to the houseboat. It'll be dark before I'm there anyway. Goodnight Nancy, goodnight John." He heaved himself off the chair and went to see his sister before setting off down the lake."

After he left John and Nancy looked at each other.

"I wonder what you would have been like if you had done as the GA wished?" asked John.

"Probably a complete prig, and we would never have been allowed to sail and camp on Wild Cat Island, and we would never have met each other." declared Nancy. "But I am very glad we did meet." She said, giving him a kiss.


	7. Kanchenjunga Again

As soon as he was awake John got out of bed, opened the curtains and looked out over the Beckfoot lawn to the lake. The air was so still that not even the leaves were stirring. Unless the wind picked up this was not going to be a day for sailing.

Moments later there was a knock on the door, and Nancy asked "Are you decent in there Skipper?"

On hearing that he was, Nancy entered, wearing a dressing gown over scarlet pyjamas. "I heard you moving about and thought we'd better discuss plans. There's not a breath of wind on the lake so sailing is out for today. What do you say to making another assault on Kanchenjunga ? If we start soon we can do most of the really steep bits before it gets too warm. I think it's going to be a real scorcher today."

"Do you know I have only been to the top once, that second summer when we had to camp at Swallowdale." John could never bring himself to think of that summer as the time he sank _Swallow_ , the memory was still painful, even all these years later.

"That's settled then. I'll ask cook for some sandwiches. If she makes a double lot we can have some for a second breakfast once we get started." Nancy then dashed downstairs calling for cook as she went.

o – o –O – o – o

A few thin wisps of early morning mist still lay in parts of the Amazon Valley as John and Nancy started up the track beside the beck. Whether it was because the last time he had walked this track he was several years younger, whether it was because that last time Roger was in the group or whether it was because of the present company; John found the climb up the lower section passed much quicker than he remembered. It was still only mid morning when they came out above the trees and reached the place where the Swallows had camped out the first time they climbed the hill.

"What about stopping here for a break?" he asked.

"Why not?" Nancy replied. "I'm ready for a drink and it will save having to carry some of the grog all the way to the top."

They settled themselves with their backs against a boulder so they had a clear view over the trees to the lake below. Rowing boats in Rio Bay looked like ants crawling over the surface of the lake, and a steamer left a long white wake across the still water.

From the knapsacks they took sandwiches and bottles of lemonade provided by cook.

"Oh good," said Nancy investigating what else cook had given them, "she's put in some of her fruit cake as well."

"Let's save that for the top. Something special to look forward to."

They each took a bite of their sandwiches and washed it down with a good swig of lemonade. "Do you know," said John, "I think some of my happiest memories have been around this lake. Nothing specific, just a general feeling that everything would be alright while we're here. I'm sure Titty feels the same. She used to dip her hands in the lake water at the first opportunity, almost like a ritual."

"I know what you mean." Replied Nancy . "There is a sort of special air about the lakes. I can't imagine anyone could ever feel the same about a city."

"True, cities are good for a visit but after a while they feel claustrophobic. We've been lucky that father has never been posted somewhere which meant we had to live in a big city. Some naval families spend all their lives in places like Portsmouth and Plymouth ."

They chatted idly about places they knew and where they would like to visit, when Nancy said "Shiver my timbers, come on skipper we're sitting here like a couple of old fishwives when we ought to be getting on to the top. Let's push on." Nancy wriggled back into the straps of her knapsack and was ready to go while John checked they had not left any rubbish behind as evidence of their stop.

The day was starting to get really hot as the pair walked on up the mountain. John could feel a prickle of sweat start to trickle down his back and could have done with another stop for a drink but Nancy was setting a brisk pace and he was determined he was not going to be the first to call for another stop. At last they reached the summit and flopped to the ground beside the summit cairn, both red in the face from the climb.

"It's a good job you insisted that we started early," said John, taking a long drink of lemonade, "otherwise it would be terrible doing the whole thing in this heat."

"Yes, and we have got to the top before any of the day trippers. Look down there." Nancy pointed to the south where a distant group of walkers could be seen. "At least we'll have the place to ourselves for a little while yet. It's never the same with strangers around."

"I suppose there must have been others." mused Nancy, after a short pause.

"Sorry, what was that? I was half asleep here in the sun."

"Idiot!" retorted Nancy, "If you were Peggy I might even call you a galoot. What I was saying was that when we came up here when we were younger I only remember it being just us. From the numbers that come up every day in summer I can't believe we were ever alone. We probably just blanked them out."

"I see what you mean." said John, "Like when we spent the summer on High Topps looking for gold, we saw Timothy, of course, and I can remember one or two lots of picnickers, but there must have been others about."

"Anyway," said Nancy, "I'm going to see if the cache is still here before those walkers arrive. Can you remember which stone it's behind?"

"I think it is on this side, quite low down." said John, jiggling several stones in turn, looking for the loose one. "Yes, here it is.", and he carefully pulled out a stone and reached in for the old brass box. "You open it. Your family have more claim to it than me."

Nancy took the box, and after brushing away some dirt, prised the lid off. Inside, just as they had left it five year's previously were the scrap of paper, the Queen Victoria farthing and the King George V halfpenny. "It's all still here." she said, "Do you think we should put our names down again?"

"I don't think so. It's not really a special occasion, not as if it's the first time we've conquered it. Perhaps our descendants will come up here in years' to come and rediscover the box and wonder who we were."

"You're right, and if we did put our names in again there ought to be a coin with the new King's head on it."

Nancy replaced the lid tightly and John returned the box to its hiding place.

Nancy suddenly asked "John, can I talk to you about something important? But you must keep it just between the two of us."

"Of course you can. But you sound very serious. What is it?"

Nancy picked up a stone and turned it over in her hands before answering. "I'm scared."

"You're what?"

"I know it sounds ridiculous. Captain Nancy, Terror of the Seas, is scared, but it's true." Nancy hurled the stone as far as she could down the mountainside.

John moved closer and lightly touched her arm. "What are you scared of?" he asked gently.

"Everything… The future… Us…" The last word was almost a sob.

"I'm not sure that I understand."

"I'm not sure myself. It was opening that box and knowing it was something that father had touched. It affects me like this sometimes." John could see Nancy's eyes starting to brim with tears. She wiped a hand across her face. "It's alright for you. Whatever happens you have the Navy for your future. You will always have something to aim for. You go to your next ship. You learn new skills. You get promoted. Unless you do something stupid you have your next twenty years or so mapped out. I don't know where I'm going or what I want to do."

"Do you have any ideas of what you want? However preposterous they seem."

"Well, I think I want to be with you, but I'm not good at 'ordinary' things. Peggy is the domesticated one who could run a house and family. At school she even kept an eye on me, made sure the buttons were sewn on my blouse, and chivvied me to make sure I got my prep done. All the sort of things that mother does when I'm at home. Oh, I know I'm good with boats and making plans for adventures, but what use are those in real life?"

"What about at school? Didn't you have someone who gave you advice about what to do when you left and stuff like that?"

"Oh we had a teacher who used to advise about university and college. For jobs she only ever came up with suggestions that she thought suitable for young ladies; teaching and nursing were the only things she thought proper. I think her hope was that all us girls found 'nice young men' and wouldn't need anything as vulgar as paid employment. She said I was 'lively' and would be difficult to place in a conventional job."

"Have you talked to your mother, or better still Uncle Jim. He hasn't exactly led a conventional life."

"Not yet. Going to them seems like admitting I can't manage on my own. I've not even said anything to Peggy, though knowing her she might already suspect something."

John said nothing. He never felt he was much good at dealing with personal problems. It was one of the things that worried him. When he became more senior in the Navy and had to deal with sailors' problems, would he be up to the job? Susan was the one who could appreciate other people's feelings, and always seemed to know what to say in these situations.

It was Nancy who broke the silence. "Who was it thought to call this Kanchenjunga?" she asked lightly, "It's a fine name, better than the real one."

"That would have been Titty. She's got a wonderful imagination. I think sometimes she lives in a private world that the rest of us don't know about."

A rattle of stones alerted them to the arrival of the walkers they had spotted earlier. They looked up as six hikers, all with big boots and heavy looking knapsacks came up the last few yards to the summit. They all exchanged "Good afternoons" and commented on the fine weather before settling to eat their lunches a little way from where John and Nancy sat.

"I suppose we ought to start down again," said John, "before it gets too busy up here."

"Yes, but we won't go down the same way." replied Nancy. "There's a less used path that follows Ling Scar. Then we can cross the Amazon and follow the woods round the edge of the moor back to Beckfoot. The last bit down from Ling Scar will be a bit of scramble though. I hope you're up for it."

"Are you sure it's a good path?"

"Of course it is. People use it all the time."

From the summit Nancy set off easterly, towards where the long spur of Ling Scar pointed down towards the lake, Long Island and Holly Howe beyond. The path was much less well defined than the one they used to climb the mountain, and wound between rocks and the occasional clump of heather, never straight for more than a couple of yards.

"Are you sure this is a proper path?" asked John, "It's more like a sheep track."

"Of course it is, just not so well used." came the reply.

As they walked John could see across High Topps on his right. The heat made distant views misty and indistinct, but he thought he could just about make out the position of the mine far out across the Topps. He estimated that where they walked was somewhere above the tunnels of the Old Level, where he had seen the roof fall that cut off the younger explorers and forced them to go right through to the other side of the mountain. The mere thought brought back the terrible sick feeling in the pit of his stomach when he thought how the four could have been entombed there in the heart of the mountain. The idea of being trapped like that and in the dark made him shudder.

"Over this way Skipper!" Nancy's call jerked John from his reverie. He looked up and saw she had veered off to the left while he had carried on along the ridge and was waiting for him by the top of a shallow gully. "You must have been day-dreaming, the look on your face was almost Titty-ish."

"Sorry, I was thinking of Titty, and Roger and the Ds, and when they got cut off by the rock fall and went right through Ling Scar and out the other side. The thought of what might have happened still haunts me."

"Yes, it could have been very nasty." Nancy was sombre for a moment, then with a half a laugh was back to her usual self, "Still everything turned out right in the end. It always does." And she led on slipping and sliding on the scree of loose stones that formed the floor of the gully.

After a few minutes they found easiest way to tackle the route was to sort of run down, using their momentum to keep ahead of the sliding stones. Slipping and sliding they soon reached flatter ground at the bottom.

"The river is just over there, behind that line of bushes." said Nancy. "We can stop beside it and cool off."

A barely discernible path crossed the coarse grass and heather to a gap in the bushes, which led to the river bank, where stones made it possible to cross dry shod.

"I think I'm hotter now than after we climbed to the top," said John, pulling his damp shirt away from his skin. "I can't remember a day by the lake quite as sticky as this."

"Once we cross the road we can walk through the woods. It'll be much cooler under the trees. There's no rush, we're not expected back before tea so we can just flop here by the Amazon."

"It's not much of a river up here, is it?" said John, stretching out on the grass, "It's smaller than the beck running through Swallowdale."

"Probably, but you can see where it gets much deeper after heavy rain. All the water from High Topps and the High Moor runs into it. It can be quite a spate at times."

"It's peaceful enough now. I can only hear the sound of the water and whatever that bird is."

"It's a great tit, I think. If Dick was here he'd be able to tell us."

"If we're going to stay for a while I'm going to cool off properly." At that John stood and pulled off his shirt, shoes and socks and stepped into the beck. Bending down he splashed his face with the cool water. "Ooh, that feels good. Come on Nancy." and he reached out for her.

"I'm quite comfortable here." she responded.

John scooped up a handful of water and tossed it at Nancy. Although only a few droplets reached her, she sprang to her feet shouting "I'll get you for that John Walker!" Pulling off her shoes she jumped into the water and splashed him in retaliation. There followed a frantic few minutes while each tried to soak the other. This ended when John missed his footing and slipped backwards into the beck.

"There, that serves you right." laughed Nancy, as she helped him to his feet. "I hope you didn't hurt yourself too much."

"Nothing seriously damaged, only pride." John admitted ruefully, not letting go of her hand. "Still, it gives me an opportunity to do this." He pulled her closer and gave her a kiss.

As they broke apart Nancy exclaimed, "I bet you slipped deliberately just so you could do that!"

"Are you complaining?"

"No... but..." Whatever Nancy was about to say was stifled by another kiss. This time they stayed holding each other for several minutes.

"Look at the state us," said John as they moved apart "we're both soaked. We'll have to tidy up before we go back to Beckfoot. I don't know what your mother will think of us."

"Mother won't mind too much." Said Nancy, "Peggy and I have been turning up wet and untidy for years. I think she's resigned to it. Even so we could wait here a while our things dry out. It's uncomfortable walking far in wet clothes."

This met with John's approval and they sat beside the beck eating what was left of the food they had brought. In the afternoon sun it did not take long for the damp clothes to dry out so they were soon on their way again. From the grassy bank to the edge of the road was only a few minutes walk. They crossed into the trees on the other side and walked in the shade they created.

At last, feeling a little footsore, they arrived back at Beckfoot.

"Look at the state of you two!" were Mrs Blackett's first words as they returned. " It looks like you've both been rolling in mud rather than just climbing the hill. You had better both have a wash and clean up a bit. Go on, there's plenty of time before tea."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter got longer than I expected. That what comes of letting Nancy get too involved. This brief stay at Beckfoot was only supposed to be a single chapter. Now I need another one before John gets back to sea and moves on with his career.


	8. Ices and a Decision

When he woke, John lay in bed thinking about what Nancy had said the previous day when they were at the summit of Kanchenjunga. Quite right, he could not see her in mundane job. Nancy was a free spirit who belonged in the open air, working in an office would be like keeping a wild bird in a cage. He resolved to ask his mother for ideas when he returned home. She had grown up in Australia and lived on the fringes of the Outback, and, from the stories she told of her childhood, she had been free to roam and explore pretty much as she liked.

After a few minutes he got up and went to the window to check the weather. As he hoped the conditions were much better for sailing. A breeze ruffled the surface of the lake and looking up he could see the white, fluffy cumulus clouds that indicate wind on a fine summer's day.

At breakfast Nancy agreed with him. "It's a perfect wind to take us across the lake without tacking. We can sail over to the Royal Lakeside and take the GA out for a few hours. You'll be able to see how she handles, really different to _Amazon_ or _Swallow_ ; perhaps you ought to think about a similar boat?"

"I don't think one would suit us. I'll be away at sea too much and I'm not sure the others would be so keen on racing, though these days Roger is keen on anything fast; cars, trains, planes."

"Of course not. I wasn't really thinking. If you're done let's go and get _Amazon_ ready."

In all things, when Nancy decided to do something she had to do it once. Once again John found himself swept along by her enthusiasm to get afloat again and in what seemed like no time at all they were down at the boathouse preparing _Amazon_.

"That's it. Shove her out into the stream. I'll keep her head to wind while you hoist the sail." ordered Nancy. John fumbled briefly with ropes he had not handled for nearly a year but soon the white sail was setting well and Nancy eased the tiller over and _Amazon_ heeled slightly to the pressure of the wind and slipped smoothly down the river, past the Beckfoot promontory and out into the open water of the lake. Presently _Amazon_ picked up enough speed for the water to gurgle under the forefoot.

"Listen, she likes this." said John.

"I know, it's just about her best point of sailing. Perhaps a little freer and she would really move." replied Nancy, "Though not as fast as the GA." she added.

Soon the first of the islands marking the start of Rio Bay was getting close.

"Where do we land?" asked John.

"See that flagstaff? Almost dead ahead." replied Nancy, "There's a landing stage just to the right of it. We'll put _Amazon_ there."

"Giminy!" Nancy exclaimed a few minutes later, "It's getting busy out here. The whole world must be afloat. I bet half of these have never been in a boat before. Look at them all getting in each other's way. Watch out, I'm going to have to tack to avoid running down these canoes."

John ducked under the boom as Nancy put _Amazon_ about. Then, once clear of the offending canoeists, she tacked back again to aim for the landing stage. Without waiting to be asked John got the painter ready and prepared to jump ashore. As Nancy luffed up and _Amazon_ slid gently beside the jetty, he stepped out and deftly took a turn around a mooring post with the painter to bring the boat snugly alongside. A quick round turn and two half hitches ensured she was secure.

With speed born of years of practice Nancy lowered the sail and roughly rolled it round the boom, securing it with a couple of turns of the mainsheet.

"There she should be safe enough now. Let's get the GA ready."

Leaving _Amazon_ at the jetty Nancy led the way to where _Amita Magna_ lay. "You get the cover off I'll go inside and get the sails." she instructed.

When Nancy returned John had removed the cover and it lay neatly rolled on the grass beside the boat while he familiarised himself with the sheets and halyards, at the same time running a hand over the smooth, varnished decks, shining golden-brown in the morning sun. "She certainly looks good," he said.

"Wait until we get out into the lake, then you'll see she doesn't just look good."

Together they prepared _Amita Magna_ for launching, with both sails ready for hoisting.

The wind was fitful as they left the jetty, for a few minutes it would be a steady breeze, then it would die to nearly nothing before strengthening again. _Amita Magna_ glided on during the lulls and responded like a thoroughbred to the stronger gusts. As they approached one of the islands Nancy prepared to tack. Just before she was ready the wind died to nearly nothing. _Amita Magna's_ bow turned into wind and stuck there with the sails flapping.

"Beast!" cried Nancy as she waggled the tiller in a very un-seamanlike fashion trying to get the boat to complete the turn. "Getting stuck in irons where others can see!"

Then, remembering what Uncle Jim had taught her years before, Nancy controlled her frustration and pushed both the tiller and the boom away from her until the boat started to move backwards and turn across the wind. Straightening up and sheeting-in the sails caught the wind on the opposite tack and they moved off again.

"Jib-booms and bobstays, that wasn't very clever. _Amazon_ would have just sailed round even without much wind." complained Nancy, "I hope she doesn't have a tendency to do that too often."

"Next time the wind drops try tacking again," suggested John "and I'll use a trick we used on the college boats at Dartmouth."

"Make sure we're well away from everyone else. I don't want people to think I'm a land-lubber who can't sail."

Now they wanted the wind to drop it remained steady for some time. Backwards and forwards they sailed experimenting with sail settings on different courses finding how to get the best from the boat. Then John spotted a tell-tale patch of water without ripples. "Bear away a little, there's a dead patch." Nancy steered straight for it and sure enough the boat's speed started to drop as they entered it.

"Try tacking now." said John.

"Are you ready? Here goes." responded Nancy, and pushed the tiller over. _Amita Magna_ slowed as she started to tack but did not falter and curved round to the new course. "That was good. What did you do?" asked Nancy .

"It's quite easy really. Hold the jib on the old side through the tack. It starts to catch the wind on the wrong side before the bow goes through the wind, which helps to blow the bow round. Then sheet-in on new side. If you do it even when there is plenty of wind it makes the tack faster."

"Shiver my timbers, so you learnt something useful from the Navy! According to Uncle Jim they only know how to slap on paint and polish brightwork." said Nancy.

"Cheek!" responded John, "Just for that I'll let you buy me an ice cream when we get back."

Before Nancy could think of a suitable reply a fresh gust filled the sails and _Amita Magna_ heeled over and picked up speed. Nancy grinned broadly as the boat flew across the lake with spray flying up from her bows. "Ready about!" she called as the opposite shore came closer. "Lee ho!" as she put the tiller across. The bow quickly turned through the wind and _Amita Magna_ settled on the opposite tack as John sheeted the jib home.

"Well Mr Midshipman," she said, as the gust faded away to a gentle breeze, "You still know how to sail. How about swapping round so I can practice that trick with the jib? Then I can teach Peggy. Sometimes I need to remind her who is the captain round here."

o – o – O – o – o

Later with _Amita Magna_ put away John reminded Nancy that she ought to buy him an ice cream for her earlier comment.

"I must admit it was rather mean, but then I did let you sail the GA. That should cancel things out." she laughed.

"Alright then, my treat. Where's the best place?"

"If you really want to treat me the sundaes at the cafe by the steamer pier are good, and it has a view out over the lake."

At the green painted cafe they were fortunate to find a vacant table outside on the veranda. After a discussion about what to have they both settled on strawberry sundaes. While waiting for the waitress to bring their order they discreetly held hands under the table and talked of what they were doing for the remainder of the holidays.

"Of course I don't have much." said John. "I'll have about two weeks at home and then it's down to Plymouth to join the _Royal Oak_."

" _Royal Oak_? I meant to ask about her, she sounds like a pub not a ship."

"She's a ship alright. A battleship, nearly thirty thousand tons and with eight fifteen inch guns." he replied. "Though I would have preferred something smaller. A battleship is so big I'll just be one of a dozen or so Mids on board."

"What will you do on board?"

"It's officially still part of our training. There'll be an Instructor Officer to make sure of that. We understudy and assist some of the officers, like the navigator, the gunnery officer, the first lieutenant, as well as having our own duties."

"Do you know where you're going?"

"The ship is coming out of refit, so to start with I expect we'll stay close to home while the guns and machinery are tested, then we are due to join the Mediterranean Fleet, so we'll probably be based in Gibraltar or Malta."

"You will write, won't you?"

"Of course. And will you write back?"

"When I can, but you know I'm not usually very good at writing letters." The arrival of the waitress bringing their sundaes interrupted their conversation. For a while neither spoke as they tucked into layers of ice cream, strawberries and cream.

"Delicious," said John, "good idea to come here."

Nancy nodded. "Wouldn't Roger like one of these." she said, licking a smear of ice cream from her top lip.

"It would be wasted on Roger. He eats anything and everything but never gets fat."

"Nancy, Nancy!" a shout interrupted their laughter. Nancy looked around to see who was calling her name. There, walking towards their table was Mike.

"Hello Mike. Mike this is John Walker," she paused slightly, "an old and very good friend. John this is Mike who designed and built _Amita Magna_." said Nancy indicating a vacant chair at the table. "Will you join us?"

"Thank you, just for a few moments if I may. I must admit I slipped out specially to see you."

Nancy looked slightly intrigued. John's expression was hard to read.

Mike continued, "I saw you sailing this morning and wanted to find out how things are going with the new boat. Then I saw you come ashore and head over here; your red cap is a real giveaway by the way. How is she handling?"

"Pretty good on the whole. She really moves with a good breeze. We found one embarrassing problem this morning though."

"Oh, what was that?"

"She caught in irons when we tacked in a calm patch, and didn't want to come out of it."

"I think it sounds like the rig needs adjusting. Try raking the mast aft a little more. Slacken off the forestay and tighten the shrouds, not a lot say an inch to start with. I could come down to the club and show you."

"That's very kind," said Nancy, "But not today as we'll be heading back soon."

"I'll be able to help her adjust the rig," said John stiffly, "It's not very difficult."

"Right." Mike looked disappointed at this news, "When will your sister be back?"

"Peggy? She'll be back in a couple of day's time."

"And will she sailing with you then?"

"I expect so. We want to get out as much as possible."

"Thank you. Well I ought to get back. There'll be trouble from Uncle Robert if I'm away from the yard for long. Bye for now. Hope to see you again soon." Mike got up and shook hands briefly with John before heading back towards the boatyard.

"John, you didn't say much to Mike."

"There wasn't much to say, was there?"

"Do you know, I do believe you are jealous of him."

o – o – O – o – o

Next morning John and Nancy loaded _Amazon_ with a variety of equipment; a pot of paint and a brush, a small saw, cooking pots, mugs, plates and food for lunch.

"It's ages since we went to Wild Cat Island and there is bound to be loads of tidying up to be done if we are going to camp there later this summer." Nancy had said. "The path to the harbour will need clearing and we haven't touched up the cross on the leading mark for years."

The wind was fair for the island and Nancy let John take the helm for the sail across the lake. As they approached the island John asked, "Landing Place or harbour?"

"Landing Place first. We can drop off the lunch things and then go round to the harbour."

John guided _Amazon_ into the channel between the mainland and the island and gently brought her onto the beach at the landing place. Nancy leapt nimbly ashore with the painter. "Hello," she said, "someone's been here recently. Look!"

There, quite clearly, was a deep groove in the beach that only could be made by a boat landing there. John followed her on to the beach and looked carefully at the mark. "I think that is more like the sort of mark that _Swallow_ leaves with her deep keel, rather than a rowing boat or a dinghy with a centreboard like _Amazon_."

"I think you're right Commodore," responded Nancy . "I can't remember seeing any boats near the island yesterday. perhaps they rowed here while we were up Kanchenjunga. Come on, let's get the cargo ashore and we'll see if they left anything else."

It only took one trip to carry the necessary bags up to the campsite. Nancy immediately spotted more evidence that visitors had been here before them. "Someone has used the fireplace, and left behind a right old mess."

The two of them looked at the fireplace, which they always left tidy, especially if Susan had anything to do with it. An untidy jumble of half burnt sticks was strewn around as if someone had kicked the fire to put it out instead of pouring water on it, and an empty bottle and pieces of paper lay under a bush.

"We'll sort that out when we make a fire for lunch. Let's take _Amazon_ round to the harbour. If the messy beasts come back today we might be able to catch them and teach them a lesson."

"That's alright if they are children," said John cautiously "but what if they are adults? We don't want to cause trouble."

"Jib-booms and bobstays! Is the Navy turning you soft? If it is adults we'll tell them, very politely, that making a mess and leaving rubbish laying around is wrong!"

They returned to _Amazon_. It was not worth hoisting the sail for the short voyage round to the harbour so John rowed while Nancy took the helm. As they came round the rocks at the entrance to the harbour Nancy watched the leading marks to guide them through the narrow channel.

"Giminy, it's lucky I know this so well, the cross has faded so badly I could hardly see it if I didn't know where to look. Boat your oars." John lifted the oars from the rowlocks and into the boat as _Amazon_ glided the last few yards to ground on the shingle.

John took the painter and secured it to the stump while Nancy tied a stern line to a rock.

"Pass the paint and brush Skipper, I'll touch up the cross. It has faded away to almost nothing."

John passed them to Nancy, then took the saw and made sure he had his pocket knife. "While you're doing that I'll start clearing the path back to the camp." he said.

It did not take long for Nancy to repaint the cross and return the painting materials to _Amazon_ , so they worked together cutting back the branches that had inevitably grown over the path since the previous summer. With two of them the path was soon clear and they arrived back at the camping-place.

"Well that's a good job done." said Nancy with some satisfaction. "We'll have dinner now and clear the path from the landing place to the harbour afterwards. If you fetch some water and more wood I'll get the fire going."

While John was gathering wood Nancy busied herself laying the fire. She would be the first to admit that she was not as skilled at this as Susan, who seemed to be able to coax damp wood into a cooking fire in minutes, nevertheless she soon had a merry blaze burning in the fireplace. When John gave a low shout, "Nancy, come here and look!"

"Where are you?"

"Down at the lookout point."

Pausing only to add a couple more sticks to the fire Nancy went over to the point. At first she could not see John, then realised he was laying on his stomach hidden by the bracken at the edge of the point. He waved at her to get down.

"Look! It's _Swallow,_ and I think she's coming this way."

Nancy dropped down and wriggled along beside him. There a little way down the lake was the familiar brown sail just off the nearer point of Houseboat Bay. "That's not Mr Jackson in her is it?"

"I can't really say without the telescope, but I don't think so. Mr Jackson sometimes uses her for fishing but it looks like there are children in her. Do the Jacksons have any grandchildren?"

"I don't know of any."

They watched as the boat sailed a little way across the lake and then tacked back towards the island.

"It's really strange watching someone else sail _Swallow_. I know she belongs to the Jacksons and not us, but I didn't expect to see her out on the lake." said John. "Whoever is sailing her is not very good. Did you see how they went much too far round during that tack and now the sail's flapping because it's not sheeted right in."

"They must be visitors." Nancy paused before continuing, "They are coming here. That course should take then straight to the Landing Place. Let's go down and meet them."

"Are you sure we should interfere?"

"Why not? They're landing on our island!"

Nancy wriggled back out of the bracken and headed to the Landing Place followed closely by John.

When they arrived _Swallow_ was heading directly for the beach. John watched anxiously as whoever was steering headed straight for the beach without losing speed. He winced as _Swallow_ crunched on the pebbles far faster than he would ever have let her. Politely he stepped forward and took the painter, pulling the boat a little further up as he did so, all the time aware of Nancy standing nearby with a fierce expression on her face.

The man at the helm carefully stepped out onto the beach. "Thank you," he said, "Last time I got rather wet when I landed here." He then turned and helped out two young children, a boy and a girl. They both stood close by the man, John presumed he was their father, shyly regarding himself and Nancy.

"Sorry," said the newcomer, holding out his hand, "I'm Mark Hardy, and these two are Ben and Sally. They are a bit shy around strangers."

John automatically extended his own hand and shook Mark's. "John Walker," he said, "and this is Nancy Blackett."

"Good morning Miss Blackett. I hope we are not interrupting anything."

Nancy responded with a polite "Good morning." adding, "Well, we were about to have our lunch."

"Sorry about barging in like this." said Mark, "only Mrs Jackson said it would be OK. She said some of her regular guests borrow the boat and come over here every summer. They even camp on the island, though these two are bit young for that."

John smiled, "Mrs Jackson was probably meaning me and my brother and sisters. We've been coming to Holly Howe and camping here for years."

Nancy could restrain herself no longer, "Who taught you to sail?" she asked rather bluntly.

"Well I must admit it's all self taught. Does it show that badly?"

"I'd say it does. We watched you coming down the lake and you seemed to be making heavy going of it."

"Oh dear, I hoped that with the practice I've had since coming here I was getting better." he paused and looked around, "Where have the children gone? Ben! Sally!"

"Here daddy." came an answering shout. "They've made a fire but it's going out."

"Golly, I'd forgotten the fire. It was just starting to burn up well when you called me. I'd better chuck a few more sticks on it," said Nancy as she headed back to the camp.

"I must apologise, we're disturbing your picnic." said Mark.

"Don't worry, we'd hardly started really." said John.

They walked up to the camping-place, where Nancy, silently watched by the children, had saved the fire before it went out. She sat back and looked around. "Where's the kettle skipper?"

"Bother, I must've left it at the lookout point. I won't be long." John hurried off.

Nancy must have lost most of her initial anger during the dash to rescue the dying fire. She was quite amiable to the visitors, though still a little distant.

"How did you get here?" asked Mark. "Were you dropped off?"

"No, there's a harbour at the south end of the island. We left our boat there."

"Is that the narrow place surrounded by rocks? I saw it but it looks impossible to get in. How did you get here, sailing or rowing?"

"Sailing. We always sail if possible. It's much more fun."

"I've always wanted to sail; ever since I was little. And finding the Jacksons had a boat at Holly Howe made this holiday the perfect opportunity to learn. The trouble is there's no-one to show me what I'm doing wrong."

"Well, there might be time this afternoon to go through some of the basics with you. Either I or John could take you. He used to look on _Swallow_ as his own boat when they stayed with the Jacksons."

"If you could it would be very helpful, I think I've got a basic grasp from reading books but it's never the same when you get on the water, and I'm spending time keeping an eye on Ben and Sally as well."

"We don't need watching," Ben finally overcame his shyness at being around strangers and spoke up.

"You don't need watching all the time but I have to continuously watch you in case I'm not watching you when I ought to be watching you." said Mark. While Ben tried to puzzle out the logic of this John returned with the kettle filled with water, and carefully balanced it on the stones of the fireplace.

"You look very organised." commented Mark as Nancy produced a frying pan and rashers of bacon from the tin box of supplies they brought from Beckfoot. "We've only got sandwiches and bottles of lemonade. When we came here before we lit a fire because it seemed the right thing to do, but we didn't cook anything."

"You're welcome to have some tea, if you don't mind sharing a mug." said John.

"No, no, we mustn't impose on you too much. You obviously know the island well and I feel like an intruder here. We'll have our lunches and go back to Holly Howe."

"Just a minute." said Nancy, "Didn't you want a sailing lesson this afternoon? If you are willing to leave Ben and Sally here with John I can go out with you in _Swallow_ for a while, and John can show the children a few things back here."

"If you're sure about that it would be very kind of you. Are you sure you wouldn't mind looking after these two for a while?" This last question was addressed to John, who nodded in reply.

This settled matters and the two groups sat around the fire and discussed plans for the afternoon while Nancy made bacon sandwiches and John kept the fire supplied with wood, with some help from Ben and Sally. When the kettle boiled Mark decided maybe he would have tea after all and shared John's mug.

After they had eaten and the scraps were thrown in the fire Nancy spoke to Mark. "Look there's something I must say. I don't want to be harsh, but was it you who left rubbish behind from last time? We've always done our best to keep the place clean. We don't mind visitors if they do the same."

At this Mike looked very shame-faced. "I'm sorry. It probably was me. When we were about to leave the children were being silly and I didn't check around before we went. I don't leave litter around deliberately."

"Alright, apology accepted. Now shall we go sailing?"

The others all found himself swept along with Nancy's plan for the afternoon. While she took Mark for a sailing lesson John showed Ben and Sally around the rest of the island, explaining about the lighthouse tree and the lookout point and taking them to the secret harbour to see _Amazon_. He told them there was a special way to get in past the rocks that only children should know and if they came back when they were old enough to sail by themselves he or Nancy would show them the secret. Both children listened intently and vowed to return when they were older.

They then returned to the lookout point and hid in the bracken. As they watched their father sail _Swallow_ to and fro across the lake John explained in simple terms what he was doing. Finally as he headed back towards the landing place they rushed back to meet him and tell what they had learned.

This time _Swallow's_ landing was closer to what John liked to see. He could hear Nancy giving instructions as they approached and the bow ground gently onto the beach.

Ben and Sally rushed up to their father "Daddy, daddy, we've seen a secret place that only children can sail in and we hid to watch you sailing."

Mark hugged them close while listening to their tales of what they did. "It sounds like you had a lovely time, but now we must go back to Holly Howe and find mummy." He then thanked Nancy and John for what they had done and promised that if landed on the island again he would ensure that any rubbish was taken away.

They all said their goodbyes and John and Nancy helped push _Swallow_ off from the beach and watched as she sailed back towards Houseboat Bay.

"We never got around to clearing the other path." said John.

"Blow the path," responded Nancy, "I think that is a family of visitors who might not be too bad if they come back again. Those kids could be like us in a few years. Let's get the fire going again and have some more tea before going back."

The hot embers were soon coaxed back into life and Nancy made a fire rather bigger than was really necessary for just boiling the kettle. Then to John's surprise she took off her red cap and tossed it into the flames.

"What on earth are you doing?" he asked.

"After what we discussed on Kanchenjunga I have decided to start to become a new me. Everyone round the lake knows Peggy and me by our red caps. Look how Mike recognised me at a distance yesterday. I think we've only kept wearing them because people expect us to. This is the start of a new, more grown-up Nancy." When she turned to face John he thought he could see a single tear glistening in the corner of one eye.

"Nancy, you don't have to change."

"I do. I need to grow up. Mother drops hints but is too good to say anything outright." Nancy wiped a hand across her eyes. "Now shall we have this tea or not?"

While she busied herself with the kettle and mugs John spoke, "Nancy I have had an idea. When we were on Kanchenjunga you said you didn't know what to do, well I've a suggestion. Teach sailing."

"What?"

"I've been thinking about what you are good at. Sailing and outdoor things generally of course, but you can teach. We've all learnt from you, the Swallows and the Ds. Yesterday you said about the visitors who go on the lake and don't know how to handle their boats. Then today you were teaching Mark. You could teach other visitors. The Jacksons have guests nearly all year round at Holly Howe, and they have _Swallow_. _Amazon_ would be a great boat to teach in as well; she's stable and easy to handle. Well, you and Peggy learnt in her."

"It's a bit sudden, but it is an idea." John could see Nancy already starting to assess what would be possible. "I could put up cards where visitors could see them. Places like at the Jacksons and the Dixons, and in some of the hotels. I'd have to ask Uncle Jim about how to do it properly, but it could work."


	9. An Unexpected Gift

The next few days of his leave seemed odd to John. His sisters and brother were all at home and busy preparing for their annual trip to the lake, a visit that he would not be joining. Susan was at her best creating order from the chaos of unpacking school boxes and trunks and packing camping gear for the holiday. The three younger Walkers were all helping to varying degrees and chattering about they would do this year. This left John feeling a little superfluous. Titty found him sitting alone in the garden. A book lay open on his lap but he was obviously not reading it.

"You're very quiet." she said "Is something on your mind? Are you worried about joining _Royal Oak?_ "

"Not particularly." he replied, "It's more about the rest of you all getting ready to go to the Lake again, but this time I'm not going with you."

"But you were there with Nancy only a few days ago." said Titty.

"I know, but this time you'll all be sailing and having adventures without me. Though you might not see so much of Nancy either this year. On her postcard last week she said she was already getting bookings for sailing lessons."

"What was it like seeing a stranger sailing _Swallow_?" asked Titty. "When you told us about another family sailing her it made me feel quite strange. I suppose others must sail her every year. It's just that we never see them and don't know about it."

"It was a surprise and a very odd feeling. I must have known that others sailed her, but look how the Amazons and the Ds always called _us_ The Swallows. They associated us with the boat. Remember how we prepared those ship's papers during that first holiday declaring us to be her crew. By the way what happened to those? I haven't seen then for a while."

"When you went to Dartmouth I took them from your tin box. Sorry about going through your things, but I thought you wouldn't want them any more and might throw them out. I've kept them safe."

"Oh Titty, I don't think I would have thrown them out. Certainly not without asking if you wanted them first. Do you want to take the barometer with you as well? It can stick a bit when the pressure gets very low, but generally it's quite reliable."

"Thank you, but I won't. I'm not very sure how to interpret the highs and lows and what the changes mean. I know that when it says 'Fine' it doesn't necessarily mean what we would think. I'm not sure that even Nancy really understands how to use it. Not properly I mean. Captain Flint does of course, but he has his own barometer."

o – o – O – o – o

By the next day Susan had got most of the packing sorted out, though there were still dozens of problems to solve. Roger had to be sent shopping with Mrs Walker, as his feet had grown again during the summer term and he needed new sandshoes. Then the box of candles mysteriously disappeared and was finally found packed with the cooking things. Eventually Susan was happy that everything was in the correct boxes and nothing left out.

Reluctantly the younger Walkers checked what holiday tasks they had been set and packed books and writing things.

When Captain Walker came home that night everything was as ready as ever it would be. Boxes and bags were piled up in the hallway waiting for the lorry from the station to collect them as "Passengers' Luggage in Advance". It was preferable to send as much as possible on ahead, that way there was far less to worry about during the journey.

"How long are you going for?" he asked. "There is enough there to sustain an army for months. You did warn the railway how much stuff there is?"

"Oh daddy, don't fuss. It's only the same as last year, probably less as John isn't going." said Susan, mentally checking things again.

"I've got some news for you, but it can wait until we're all together for supper. Now I must go and change out of this uniform, I feel as if I'm being strangled by my own collar and tie."

When Captain Walker came back downstairs wearing his favourite old jacket and flannels, supper was on the table and the rest of the family ready to eat. For a while conversation was limited to such things as requests to pass the salt or comments about how good it was. Eventually Susan spoke up, "Daddy, earlier you said you have some news. Can you tell us now?"

"Yes. As you know my job here was to work with the authorities up and down the coast, discussing what the Navy will need to take over if we have another war. My final report to the Admiralty Board was delivered a few weeks ago and appears to have been accepted. That means that other than tidying up a few loose ends I have finished. Their Lordships have promised me a ship soon, but until then I have some leave to take. I've already discussed this with your mother and when she goes to stay at Holly Howe I'll come too. I've heard so much about what you all get up to I ought to find out for myself."

This news was greeted with great enthusiasm by all and everyone had an idea of what they wanted their father to do. "One at a time, please." he insisted, "Susan, you first."

"Will you want to camp with us, because if so we need another tent and sleeping bag." said Susan.

"Ever the practical one. You would make someone an excellent First Lieutenant." laughed father. "No, my camping days are over. I enjoy my comforts too much. You lot can stay on the island in peace, you have had plenty of experience. Titty, you next."

"Will you come sailing with us? It might be a bit of a squeeze, although there will only be four this year we're all getting bigger but _Swallow_ isn't."

"I certainly hope to get out on the water with you, though I hope I don't have to make anyone walk the plank to make room for me. Let's see what can be done when I get there. Now, Roger?"

"Can you come to the mine and see the copper that I discovered and then go to Swallowdale and see the cave and the tarn where I caught the giant trout?"

"I'll try to see what I can. I want to do some walking as this job has made soft and walking the fells sounds just what I need to get in shape again. Now Bridget did you want anything?"

"Yes, daddy. You won't spend too much time with us, will you? Otherwise we won't have time for adventures."

"Alright, I know parents are not always welcome. Your mother and I will enjoy having some time to ourselves."

o – o – O – o – o

The following day was taken up with the last minute preparations. The lorry came early to collect the luggage. Susan supervised in case the men missed something, then checked the times of their connecting trains again. Mrs Walker booked two taxis to get them all to the station in the morning and supervised the preparation of a mound of sandwiches as provisions for the journey.

Susan chivvied the others to bed early. "We have to be ready to catch that train. If we miss it we could miss our connections and there is no telling what time we will get to Rio if that happened. So bed now and get up early in the morning."

Sometimes Mrs Walker felt that Susan was old beyond her years, and this was one of these times. She wondered if her eldest daughter ever relaxed enough to have real fun any more. When she was at that age she was trying to outwit her parents, meeting unsuitable boys and generally trying to stretch the bounds of what was permitted. That had all ended suddenly when the war came.

o – o – O – o – o

Although he had spent time there with Nancy only a few days before, the knowledge that the others were returning to the Lake without him gave John a hollow feeling. When he saw them off at the station part of him wanted to be with them again be taking the long train journey north.

"Say 'Hello' to Nancy and the others for me." he said as the others boarded the train, taking over an entire compartment. Quietly, so that only Titty would hear, he added "Remember me to the Lake and look after _Swallow_."

"Of course I will, and I'll make sure the others do too." she said.

Then the guard blew his whistle, John and mother called "Good bye. Don't forget to send a postcard when you arrive."

"Good bye, good bye."

Anything further was drowned by a shriek from the engine's whistle and the first blast from its exhaust reverberated around the station.

John waved from the platform as the train puffed out of the station, then he wiped a hand across his eyes. "It's alright mother, it's only smoke from the engine." he said when she looked at him questioningly.

Mrs Walker said nothing, but smiled knowingly to herself.

o – o – O – o - o

Back at home John felt lost. With five children there had always been chatter and laughter around the house. During the day with just the two of them it was empty and hollow.

"Now you know what is like when you are all at school." his mother laughed, but felt for him as he was on the brink of leaving to join his first ship for an unknown future. She knew how events could alter a ship's programme and the Admiralty would send a ship to a foreign station for months on end if the diplomatic situation demanded it. Her Ted had been sent away unexpectedly in the past and now the news from Spain was not good.

His father sensed the change too. One evening he made a suggestion. "I've got to visit the Admiralty for a couple of days. Why don't we all go up to London together, stay in a hotel, see the sights, take in a show and John can then catch the Plymouth train from London rather than coming back here?"

It was agreed that this was a splendid idea. John completed the remainder of his packing, remembering to slip into his case the copy of Knight's _Sailing_ and the small painting of _Swallow_ that Nancy gave him. He noticed his father placed a strange, long, slim parcel into his bag, but thinking it was to do with his meeting at the Admiralty thought no more of it.

The short stay in London was a great success. John had only visited with his brother and sisters in the past, so previous activities were necessarily those that would also be enjoyed by the younger children. The second evening when they dined in a smart restaurant in the West End John knew he was being treated as a real adult.

His mother explained "Your father brought me to place near here on our first proper evening out together. That would have been about twenty years ago. It wasn't supposed to be a special occasion, it just happened."

"What your mother is trying to say is that it was not planned, and as so often happens it was a case of seizing the moment." said his father. "I have something I want to give you, something with a story behind it and connected with your mother and I meeting. It will take a while to tell so I hope you will bear with me.

"You will remember from your history lessons that in the Great War Britain tried to attack Germany and her allies via Turkey and so they landed in Gallipoli. Well many of the troops that landed there were from Australia and New Zealand, the ANZACs we called them. I was a senior Midshipman in the old battleship _Albion_ at the time _._ One of our jobs was to shell the enemy positions ashore. To direct the gunfire we landed a couple of shore parties to work with the troops. I went with one of the gunnery Lieutenants as his assistant. From the moment we landed we could see the troops were in trouble. The shoreline was littered with bodies. Hundreds of soldiers never got off the beach." Captain Walker paused to take a drink and gather his memories.

"Our party was supporting one of the Aussie units and some of their men were detailed off to protect us. Their officer was a young chap who introduced himself as Jonny. Gallipoli was a terrible place, just a series of low ridges with hardly any trees or shade. To signal back to the ship we had to set up on a hilltop so they could see us from the ship, the trouble was the Turks could see us as well. The very first afternoon we were attacked. It was only a half-hearted affair which we drove off easily with the help of the Aussies. Our only casualty was the Lieutenant. That left me in charge of our little party. I didn't think to tell the ship what had happened. I just carried on sending coordinates back for the guns when needed.

"We stayed on that hilltop for days. We were hot, dusty, covered in flies and everything stank. That Aussie Jonny stuck with me through those days. When we weren't directing our gunfire we talked, mainly about our homes and families. He said that if ever something happened to him I should contact his younger sister who was a nursing auxiliary in London, tell her he thought of her until the end. He gave me a slip of paper with her name and the hospital she was serving in. He used to laugh at me being in full naval uniform and not khaki like the naval brigade. I was proud of being navy and when I landed I wore my Midshipman's dirk as well the revolver I was issued with. He used to joke that if the enemy got close enough for that dirk to be any use it would be too late.

"Anyway, one evening the Turks made a determined attempt to drive us from that hill and started shelling us. I tried to spot their guns to bring ours on to them but I couldn't see where they were firing from. Then a shell burst right beside our little trench. I remember a sharp pain in my leg, then I was unconscious for a while. When I came to Jonny was beside me, he had taken the force of the blast and was in a bad way. I tried to help him but he knew it was all over. All he said was "Find Mary and tell her I was thinking of her." Then he coughed and lay still.

"Well, our signalling kit was damaged so I couldn't contact the ship. I thought it best to return with what was left of our party. On the way back to the shore I remembered the pain in my leg. When I looked there was nothing but a big bruise. A piece of shrapnel had hit my dirk in its scabbard. Despite Jonny's jokes my dirk had saved me from serious injury.

"When I finally got back to London I tracked down Jonny's sister. The rest, as they say, is history. I brought her to a restaurant near here and after a short while she agreed to marry this hard-up young officer. "

John knew a little of this story, the meeting in London and the early marriage but this was the first time he heard details of his father's involvement ashore in Gallipoli. He wanted to ask more questions but felt this was not the time.

His mother spoke "And that is why you are called John, after my brother. He is buried out there, in the ANZAC cemetery, not far from where was killed."

Father then produced the mysterious package John had seen back at home. "I want you to have this now you are a Midshipman."

John carefully unwrapped the parcel to reveal a Midshipman's dirk in its scabbard. "Is this...?" he could barely find the words he wanted.

"Yes, that is my old dirk that saved my leg back in Gallipoli. I had the scabbard repaired where the shrapnel hit it. Wear it, and maybe one day you'll be able to pass it on to another generation of Walkers."


	10. A New Duty

The taxi splashed through a series of puddles as it negotiated the maze that is Devonport Dockyard. The driver peered through the rain spotted windscreen and came to a stop. "'Ere you be gentlemen. First trip is it?" he asked.

"No, we're rejoining after our Christmas leave." replied John.

"Well 'ave a good voyage. Oughta be warmer where you be goin' to. Sounds a bit dicey doun there."

John looked at his companion and raised an eyebrow. As mere Midshipmen they knew little of the ship's programme, which was supposed to be confidential. As so often happened the locals seemed to know more about ships' movements than their crews.

While John settled the bill with the driver the other Midshipman pulled their bags out of the taxi and placed them in the driest spot he could find.

"Well John," he said as the taxi drove off, "here we are again; back to the old _Oak_."

They looked up at the ship which towered above them; gun turrets, signal decks, bridge, funnel, gunnery director all formed a grey pyramid silhouetted against an overcast grey sky.

A few splashes of colour relieved the overall greyness of the scene. Forward, the Union Jack flapped damply against its staff, as did the White Ensign right aft. At the masthead, high above, flew the red and white of a Vice Admiral's flag. The battleship, _HMS Royal Oak_ , was the flagship of the Admiral commanding the Second Battle Squadron, and their home. Now, in late December, Midshipmen John Walker and David Lorrimer-Coates had returned after spending Christmas with their respective families.

They, along with all the other Midshipmen, had joined _HMS Royal Oak_ the previous August after their summer leave. John clearly remembered the day four months ago, when they had stood on this same quay looking up at the ship. That had been a time of mixed emotions: pride in his new status as a Midshipman, excitement at joining his first ship as a member of the ship's company, mixed with more than a touch of apprehension at the unknown life before him.

The ship had seemed huge when they first came aboard, a never-ending labyrinth of passages and mysterious compartments that John never thought he would learn his way around. The working-up period following the ship's re-commissioning had ensured every member of the crew knew the ship intimately. Now he could confidently find the most obscure locations without a second thought and probably negotiate blindfolded most of the hatches and ladders he would encounter along the way.

Now the ship was where he felt he belonged and time spent elsewhere seemed strange. John had tried to hide it while he was with the rest of the family at Christmas, but his father had spotted it. While the whole family was taking a walk by the river, "to blow away the cobwebs" as mother termed it, father had fallen in step beside him. "Is everything alright son?" he had asked quietly.

"I'm fine, why do you ask?" replied John.

"It's just that I remember what it was like when I had leave from my first ship as a young mid. You think no-one quite understands what it's like. You have been living a life completely different from what the 'stay at homes' are used to. You have different responsibilities, different problems; things you don't want to share with the family, you want your independence but are probably still a bit scared of it. What's more I bet you're missing the ship and your shipmates. That probably feels more like home than it does here."

"I suppose it's something like that." John had said.

"Just remember that I'm here if you want to talk, sailor to sailor." Father had replied and briefly touched his elder son on the shoulder.

The two Midshipmen turned up the collars of their greatcoats against the weather and climbed the gangway to the quarterdeck, where they saluted and ensured the duty quartermaster recorded their return, before descending to the gunroom.

Graves, the Sub Lieutenant of the Gunroom, was sprawled in an armchair reading a newspaper as the pair entered. "Welcome back. You've got a couple of quiet days alongside to get used to some new duties."

The two looked at him questioningly.

"Yes, you heard right, there's been a bit of a switch round. Walker, you're getting the Number One Picket Boat as your harbour duty. That previous idiot was causing too much damage. The Commander wants him somewhere he can't do too much harm."

"Aye aye, sir"

"I've told you before, no need to be so damn formal down here. Elsie, you're going to the AA battery to assist the officer of the quarter." Lorrimer-Coates winced inwardly at the abbreviation of his surname, but in a service where nick-names are commonplace it was inevitable that he had become known as 'Elsie'.

John was pleased with the news. Being given charge of the steam picket boat meant his seniors considered he was capable of managing it and the crew of six, but then nervous because it was a conspicuous duty giving every opportunity of making a fool of himself before the rest of the ship's company. His messmate who previously had that duty was normally competent enough but tended to get flustered when under pressure. That unfortunately had happened early in his time in _Royal Oak._ He made a mess of coming alongside when there was a bit of a sea running, an error anyone could make, but it was witnessed by the Commander, a real martinet who expected nothing less than perfection at all times, and who voiced his disapproval of the Midshipman's boat handling very loudly and very publicly. After that every time the luckless Midshipman was handling the picket boat in view of the Commander he lost his confidence and made a mess of the simplest tasks, resulting in damage to both the boat and the ship's accommodation ladder.

o – o – O – o - o

When the ship's company mustered the following morning John met his crew for the first time. The coxswain, a young Petty Officer named Whittle, introduced him to the other five crew members, three seamen, a stoker Petty Officer and stoker. These last two were responsible for the boat's steam engine and boiler.

Whittle explained "When we're duty watch in 'arbour we 'as to be ready to man the boat at a moment's notice. From start of the forenoon to midnight if we're the early turn boat, otherwise it's from about 4 bells to well into the Middle when we're late turn. When we're real busy there's 'ardly a moment even to eat, but we manages though." He gave wink here as if sharing some enormous secret, "We're a good crew, looks after each other OK. The other young gentlemen though, he didn't always listen to what 'e were told."

John nodded gravely, promising himself that he would take notice of the more experienced Petty Officer and try not to make any mistakes that would incur the Commander's wrath.

The next hour was spent going over the boat with Whittle. The Petty Officer was obviously very proud of the boat and explained to John that not only was there friendly rivalry between the number one and number two boats, but between the port and starboard crews of each. Each crew was responsible for the boat over a twenty four hour period and did their best to ensure that it was handed over in as near perfect condition as possible. Any faults that could be attributed to the other crew were seized on with delight as evidence of the others ineptitude.

"The other young gentleman cost me a tot or two with some of them scrapes he made in the paintwork, an' the dent 'e made in the funnel when 'e got us under the accommodation ladder. That time I 'ad to go to the coppersmiths' workshop to get it fixed."

"I hope you don't cost you a tot PO." said John, "Let me know if it looks like I'm making a mess of things."

"Just remember sir, she's got plenty of power ahead and astern but needs to be treated like a lady. All ships an' boats are ladies an' don't like bein' pushed around, you 'as to guide 'em. Even the old _Oak_ 'ere. You watch the skipper, 'e don't force 'er if 'e don't need to."

John had not seen the Captain's ship-handling from close at hand. The Captain normally only took the con directly when berthing or unberthing. At those times John's duty station was on the foredeck with the cable party. Thinking of those times when he was on the bridge at sea he could recollect differences in the way some of the Officers-of-the-Watch handled the ship. Even in rough conditions some timed the helm orders so the waves assisted the ship through a turn. He presumed it was partially experience and partially that unconscious feel for the sea that marked out a true seaman. He fervently hoped that he would be one of those.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Notes
> 
> For those who are unsure about naval ranks here is a very brief summary.
> 
> The officer ranks from most junior upwards are:  
> Cadet, Midshipman, Sub Lieutenant, Lieutenant, Lieutenant Commander, Commander, Captain; then come Commodore and the various Admirals.
> 
> What confuses some is the way a commanding officer is usually given the courtesy title of "captain", with a small "c," no matter what his actual rank. In big ship, such as HMS Royal Oak, the captain will be a Captain, and the second in command a Commander and called The Commander (though sometimes something much ruder behind his back!). Smaller ships can be commanded by a Commander or Lieutenant Commander.
> 
> The other ranks or ratings are: Ordinary Seaman, Able Seaman, Leading Seaman, Petty Officer and Chief Petty Officer.


	11. Gibraltar

January 1937

The Pillars of Hercules! For some reason John immediately thought of the ancient name for the entrance to the Mediterranean Sea as _Royal Oak_ steamed towards the distinctive outline of the Rock of Gibraltar. To port the Spanish coast was clearly visible, through the haze to starboard a tawny brown smudge was the mysterious coast of Africa.

"What do you think we'll be doing?" asked a familiar voice from behind him.

John turned from his vantage point at the guardrail to greet Lorrimer-Coates. "What do you mean; in the next few days or more generally?"

"More generally. Do you think we'll get involved with whatever is going on in Spain?"

"I don't know. The Captain said the fleet exercises are going ahead as planned, but we are to protect British interests as necessary. I can't quite see how we do that, Spain is such a big place with so much coastline."

"Do you reckon we'll get any time ashore in Gib?" Lorrimer-Coates changed the subject to something of more immediate interest to the Midshipmen.

"Bound to. There'll be stores and fuel to take on, and I hear the Admiral has a round of meetings with the high-ups ashore, and is hosting a party on board with the people who matter."

"How do you get to know all this John? Do you have special access to the captain?"

"I stand bridge watches with Lieutenant Commander Turvey, who used to serve with my father and he can get quite chatty when things are quiet. He's told me quite a bit about the ship's programme."

"It _is_ true what they say about the navy being a big family then. Did your old man tell you the best places to visit?"

"No, but he did tell me which ones to avoid if I don't want to lose my wallet." laughed John.

"Must be useful. Your father being able to advise on things like that I mean. My father's not been further abroad than the Isle of Wight. He couldn't really take in the places we visited on the _Frobisher_. He seemed to think the West Indies would be all mud huts and cannibals."

"Well, my sister romanticises them as being like _Robinson Crusoe_ or _Treasure Island_. When we get in to Gib we're both in the same part of watch in harbour so we can go ashore together. I promised the family I'd send picture postcards from everywhere we go. In particular I want to get one with apes on it for my brother."

"Are you calling him a monkey?"

"No, but there are times when that would be appropriate. Actually it's because he was given a monkey for a pet several years ago. Totally ridiculous idea, but Roger thought it was great. In the end it was best for everyone, including the monkey, to send it to a zoo."

"Is he younger than you?"

"Roger? Yes, he's about five years younger."

"Is he going to join the RN as well?"

"I can't see it. When he stops mucking around he really is quite bright, and good at practical things. He's the sort of chap that will design aircraft or fast cars. Something showy anyway."

Both turned back to look at the rock, surprised at how much closer it had got while they were talking. "They'll be piping to harbour stations before long." said John. "Best go below and get changed."

o – o – O – o – o

When both watches were mustered for duty the following morning John was ready with his boat's crew. They were the early turn boat and already the stokers had fired up the boiler and ensured there was steam enough for any urgent requirements.

As the Officer of the Day approached John stiffened to attention and reported the crew ready. Despite John and Petty Officer Whittle having already done so, the officer inspected the crew closely.

"Walker!" he barked, "Do you know your duties for today?"

"Yes Sir," John replied, "Run as required during the forenoon and afternoon, then operate a shuttle service with the second picket boat to bring guests to the cocktail party."

"Correct. Remember, you and your men will be the first members of _Royal Oak's_ crew that the guests will see, so smartness in all things and all times. Any sloppiness will be dealt with, harshly." The officer paused to let his words sink in. "Now man your boat. The Paymaster Commander is going ashore."

"Aye aye Sir." John saluted but the officer had already turned away. Biting back his annoyance at the abrupt way he had been treated John addressed his crew. "You heard what is expected of us today. I know you are always a credit to the ship when on duty, so let's get on with it." He nodded to Whittle, who gave the order to fall out.

The crew made their way to the boom where the picket boat lay and scorning the rope ladder slithered down the lizard to its deck. John took his place at the wheel while the others reached their respective stations. A quick check to confirm with the PO stoker that the engine was ready, and he gave the order to slip the boat rope.

"Slow ahead!" And they moved away from the other boats on the boom. John swung round in a gentle arc to come to the accommodation ladder leading to the quarterdeck. Using the few minutes available he did his best to get accustomed to how the boat handled. Concentrating on his boat-handling he did not dare look up to see if anyone was watching. At first he felt as if the whole fleet could be following his progress. Trying to ignore the feeling he kept his eye the foot of the ladder. "Stop... Slow Astern." With a flurry of water at the stern the boat quickly lost speed.

"That's enough Sir," Whittle advised. "else you'll stop short."

John ordered the engine to stop again and the boat just had enough way to drift close enough for the bowman to reach the platform at the bottom of the ladder with his boathook.

"Thank you PO," John said, keeping his voice low, "Any more and I wouldn't have made it."

"That's alright Sir. You just need to remember she's got plenty of stern power. Next time come in a bit quicker an' give 'er a good burst of 'alf astern when you're a coupla boat lengths off. She'll soon stop. Watch out Sir, 'ere comes the paybob."

John looked up and saw the Assistant Paymaster descending the ladder, followed closely by his superior.

"Where to sir?" he asked as the Paymaster came aboard.

"Flag Staff Steps please mid. Know where that is?"

"Yes Sir." John said that with confidence having spent part of the previous afternoon pouring over a chart of the harbour, noting the various landing places, and the positions of the other major ships in the harbour.

As he conned the picket boat across the harbour John forgot the possibility that was being watched, and started enjoying himself. The boat responded readily to the wheel and the wind ruffled water of Gibraltar harbour reflected the early January sun as thousands of golden flecks of light. Everywhere he looked were ships of the Atlantic and Mediterranean Fleets assembled in preparation for the joint manoeuvres. One of _Royal Oak's_ sister ships lay near the mighty _Hood_ , possibly the most famous ship in the fleet. There was the distinctive flat-topped silhouette of an aircraft carrier, and beyond that several cruisers, further away still destroyers were moored in pairs.

All too quickly he was arriving at Flag Staff Steps. Another boat already lay there, her green hull marking her out as the Commander-in-Chief's boat. As she pulled away John could see a miniature St George's Flag fluttering at the bows, indicating the Admiral himself was aboard. John called his small crew to attention and saluted as the other passed them. Fervently he hoped they made a good impression. Slovenly boat work had a way of getting reported back.

The steps now being clear he carefully took the boat alongside. The Paymaster and his assistant returned his salute as they stepped ashore.

"Thank you Mid. Pick us up from here in two hours."

"Aye aye Sir." John replied. He could see another boat approaching so he gave the order to bear off and returned to the ship.

Similar duties continued all day. Officers were ferried ashore for business at the headquarters buildings, members of the Admiral's staff visited other ships, four of the younger wardroom officers went to play tennis. Then they had to be picked up again for the return trips. It was well into the First Dog Watch before the picket boat crew had a chance to stand-down.

"Make sure the boat is ready at the end of the First Dog Watch to bring visitors out for the Reception," instructed the Officer of the Day. "First pick up from the steps is at eight bells, and make sure you and your crew are in clean uniforms."

"Aye aye Sir," John replied, wondering if he would find time to eat properly. They returned the boat to the boom and the crew set to give it a quick clean up.

"Just a quick wipe round to remove any smears 'n' stains," Whittle ordered the crew, "Then scrub the deck before you go below. Oh yes, you'd better polish the brass as well. "

The crew applied themselves to the tasks and soon the boat was clean enough to pass the PO's eagle eyed scrutiny.

"There you are Sir. All done by kindness," he said to John, "an' they knows I'll kick their backsides if they slack," he added with a grin.

The crew scrambled up the ladder and returned to their messes to prepare for the evening's duties. John managed to grab a slice of bread and jam before changing his white duck trousers for a clean pair. He decided a swift brush down was enough for his jacket.

Before the end of the watch the crew had all returned to the boat. The OOW gave clearance for both picket boats to start a shuttle service to collect guests for the reception.

As they approached the landing place John could see a group already waiting for them to arrive. He expertly brought the boat alongside and Whittle called out "Boat for _Royal Oak_! Boat for _Royal Oak_!"

One or two dropped back but nearly everyone was bound for the ship. "Keep count PO" asked John, "We don't want to be overload, so we'll stop boarding when the cabin is full. The other boat is just behind."

The passengers, all guests for the Admiral's reception, started coming aboard. Most were used to boats and stepped aboard confidently. A few, mainly ladies, were a little hesitant and required the crew to lend a steadying hand until they were safely inboard.

"That's it! Full up!" called Whittle, holding his hand out to stop a young lady in a bright yellow dress from boarding.

"Oh, can't you let me on please?" she asked "My parents are on board."

Whittle looked back to John, who nodded. "Alright, just this one. There's room in the aft cabin."

The girl in the yellow dress came nimbly aboard and found a seat in the cabin close to where John stood at the wheel. She brushed her dark hair away from her face and smiled at John. "Thank you. I wouldn't have minded going in the other boat but you look so nice I wanted to come with you."

John felt himself starting to turn red so he directed all his attention to the boat and leaving the landing stage. From the look on his face it was obvious that the sternsheetsman had heard the girl's comments and witnessed the reaction it brought. Momentarily John thought to tell the man to stop smirking, but too many officers ordered the men about without good reason. Instead he grinned in a self-deprecating manner and gave a small shrug.

During the short voyage back to the ship John was aware the girl was watching him all the way, often with a slight smile on her lips. Her dark hair and eyes were complemented perfectly by the yellow of her dress. He had to admit to himself that she was very good-looking.

When they arrived at _Royal Oak_ a formal reception party was waiting to greet the guests, some of whom had to be helped from the boat to the platform at the base of the accommodation ladder. One of the last to leave was the girl. As stepped off she asked John "Will you be joining us at the party?"

John had to shake his head. "No, I'm duty all evening and have to stay with the boat."

"Oh, what a pity," and at that she followed the others up the ladder to the quarterdeck.

"I think you've managed to pull yourself a nice young lady there sir." said Whittle.

"Nonsense PO. She was just being friendly. I expect that once she meets some of those with gold braid on their sleeves she'll forget all about me."

"Didn't look like that to me sir."

"Don't talk rubbish. Now let's get on with the next trip."

All the guests were aboard the battleship after another round trip by both boats and they and their crews were able to relax for a while. The Officer of the Day directed the second boat to return to the boat boom while John and his crew waited at the accommodation ladder in case they were needed.

While above them the quarterdeck was a scene of bright lights, food, drink and music, the boat's crew shivered as a chill wind blew across the darkening harbour, reminding them that although they were in Gibraltar it was still January and the weather could be as chilly as Britain.

"Lucky blighters," muttered one of the crew, as they watched one of the other picket boat's crew carefully lower a fanny of something hot to those below. "While we're stuck 'ere the gangway crew can see our every move. That officer ," he indicated the officer above them with a slight inclination of his head, "is enjoyin' posh grub and I'm sure is doin' it where we can see special like."

Whittle spoke quietly to John, "D'you reckon you could keep 'im distracted for a few minutes Sir? I knows the PO steward and 'e'll let me me 'ave some grub for the lads."

"How can I do that?"

"I'm sure you can think of something Sir, you're the officer."

John thought for a while. He would need a very good reason to leave the boat and speak to the officer. At last he said "Alright PO, I've got an idea, but you and the lads stay here."

Whittle wondered what the young Midshipman had in mind, but stood aside and watched as John quickly ascended the accommodation ladder and spoke to the duty officer. From the cockpit of the boat he could not hear what was being said up on the main deck, but he could see the officer's expression change from one of annoyance to one of understanding. In only a short time the midshipman had saluted smartly and was descending back to the boat.

"What did you say to 'im Sir?" asked Whittle as John stepped back aboard.

"I told him the truth. That we've been on duty without a proper break and asked for something to be sent down."

"And 'e went along with that?"

"It's correct, so why shouldn't he? Hopefully there'll be something sent down soon."

To the surprise of Whittle and the other crew members two stewards arrived and the quartermaster called down to the boat, "Grub's arrived lads. Best send someone up to fetch it."

Whittle despatched one of the sailors to collect the food. Later, as they ate, he considered the new Midshipman assigned to them. Most of the Midshipmen he had met started out with a superiority complex, believing that they were better than the men. On the whole they grew out of it and realised that the best way to command was through understanding and earning respect, but some remained arrogant and self-opinionated throughout their careers. In Whittle's opinion this new Mid was already showing concern from his men, and took notice of what he was advised. Whittle hoped he would remain with their crew longer than the last idiot did. He suspected that Midshipman Walker was destined for a fulfilling career in the Navy, if he didn't get cheesed off with the whole thing and start running a rubber plantation in Malaya or something.

As the men finished the last of the food footsteps were heard descending the ladder, John looked up to see who it was and was surprised to see the girl in the yellow dress. Rising to his feet he met her as she reached the bottom.

"Can I help you?" he asked "We weren't expecting to start ferrying people back so soon."

"No, I don't want to go back yet. I just want to get away from the party for a while. Can I join you?" she replied.

"I think so. I mean of course." and John held a hand to steady her as she stepped aboard.

"Thank you. I was getting so fed up."

"Fed up? Why?"

"It's my parents. I came with them but my father seems to view every young officer he meets as a potential son-in-law. I pretended I needed to visit the ladies' room and slipped away."

"It can't really be as bad as that, really?" asked John.

"Oh it can be, you don't know my father."

"No, but you can join us here if really want to escape for a while."

"Thank you. My name's Lucinda, by the way, but you can call me Lucy, it sounds more ordinary."

"Lucy it is then, and I'm John."

"Excuse me Sir, I'll get the lads to tidy up on deck and make sure we're ready for the return trips." said PO Whittle, breaking into the conversation.

"What? Oh, right, thank you. Carry on then." John said.

There was a brief pause as Whittle shooed the crew out of the aft cabin and set them to their tasks. Alone with Lucy John felt more awkward. "Er, do you live here?" he asked, realising it was not the cleverest conversation opener.

"I do now, I was at school until recently. Father and mother have been here for a while. Father is a chandler, providing stores to ships. He wants to extend his business by getting naval contracts. What with that and trying to act as matchmaker he was getting impossible to be with."

"Matchmaker?"

"He thinks that if he can marry me off to an officer with good prospects it will be good for business. He never asks what I want. I was sent to the best school he could afford in England, then to Switzerland for finishing. I would rather have gone to somewhere less pretentious. Meet normal girls. Do you know what I mean?"

"I think so."

They were disturbed by a bugle call, the reception was ending with the ceremony of Sunset. The Royal Marine band played _Sunset._ Then the lights went out and a single seachlight illuminated the ensign as it was hauled down _._ As the seachlight flicked out a spontaneous round of applause rippled through the assembled guests and, unobtrusively, their hosts started to guide them to the gangway.

"Time for me to return to duty." said John, standing up as the first guests arrived back onboard.

"Thank you for talking to me. Can I see you again?"

"Maybe, I was hoping to go ashore tomorrow, see some of the sights if possible."

"I could show you around if you like. Could you be at the Café Imperial at two?" The girl looked so imploring that John found himself agreeing without thinking to ask where to find the café.


	12. Caves, and a Letter

With so many ships in the harbour the tables outside the Café Imperial were all busy but John was able to find one inside from where could see everyone coming through the door. It had not been difficult to locate the café, it was obviously a well-known place and he only had to ask once and he received clear directions of how to get there it. Up in the higher part of the town it offered a panoramic view of the harbour and on across the bay to the Spanish town of Algeciras.

"Would you like to order?" a waitress asked.

John looked at his watch. "Just a cup of tea please. I'm waiting for someone and we might want more later." he replied.

The waitress gave him a dark look that suggested she found young officers who took a table for four and only ordered a single cup of tea were beneath her contempt. Nevertheless she noted the order on her pad and later arrived with a tray of tea things.

As John watched the comings and goings he began to wonder if Lucy was going to arrive after all or if her invitation was a spur of the moment idea that she had forgotten. He took another sip of his rapidly cooling tea and wondered if he could stay longer, as the waitress was starting to give him a stern look for occupying the table for so long and only purchasing a single drink. Then Lucy was there, in the doorway, scanning the tables. John stood up to attract her attention and waved her to the table.

"Oh good, you're still here." she said breathlessly. "Mother insisted I went shopping with her while she chose a new dress and was simply ages making her mind up. I'm simply gasping for something to drink. Are you having another."

"Yes please, this one's getting rather cold."

Seeing a second person arrive the waitress was already by their table and took their order for tea and cake.

As they drank their teas Lucy chattered about how exasperating her mother was when it came to shopping while John listened and watched. He noticed how, as she talked, Lucy would occasionally toss her head, dislodging tendrils of long, dark hair, that had to be coaxed back into place. Suddenly he realised she had asked him a question and was waiting for a reply.

"I'm sorry, what was it you asked?"

"I asked where you wanted to go this afternoon. Round the town or do you want to go up the Rock?"

"Up the Rock. Living here you must know all the best places."

"I've not lived here that long. Father's business was based in London, but with mother's Spanish connections he set up out here and left the London office to a partner."

"Spanish connections?"

"Oh yes, mother is part Spanish, that's who I get my looks from. Not from father, who'd want to be short and slightly pudgy?" Lucy giggled and fluttered her eyelashes.

John took a drink of tea to hide his embarrassment. Replacing his cup in the saucer he carefully changed the subject, "You asked what I want to see? As this is my first time in Gibraltar I want to go up the rock and see the apes."

"You never know where to find the apes. There aren't that many. Why don't we go up to the caves? The apes sometimes hang around there. You must see the caves. According to legend the tunnels are supposed to be endless and there's a passage that goes right under the strait and comes up in Africa. That's how the apes are supposed to have arrived on the Rock."

"Really?"

"Well that's what the stories say. Anyway the caves do go pretty deep."

"It sounds interesting, let's go there then."

After paying the bill for the teas John allowed Lucy to lead the way up the road, which zig-zagged its way up the western side of the Rock. Several times they stopped while Lucy pointed out places of interest or just to admire the view. As they got higher the entire harbour was laid out below them like a map. At the far side he could see _Royal Oak_ at her berth with an arrowhead of white approaching. Was that the First Picket Boat being run by her other crew? He watched as it described a sweeping semi-circle before coming alongside. Critically he tried to compare the handling with his own. At this distance he was unable to see for sure, but he thought the unidentified cox'n had bumped heavily.

Further up they arrived at the entrance to the caves. "St Michael's Cavern" read the sign outside. Inside John was astounded by the chambers they visited. The only caves he had previously been in; Peter Duck's cave in Swallowdale, the gulch on High Topps, even the old slate mines under Kanchenjunga seemed like rabbit burrows compared to the chambers they visited. In the Cathedral Cave stalactites and stalagmites had met and formed great rock pillars seeming to support the roof. In another part an array of stalactites looked like the pipes of an organ.

It seemed so natural for the two of them to walk around together admiring the underground wonders that John found himself asking if Lucy would be free again the day after next, when he again had the afternoon free from duties. She was, and they agreed to meet again at the Imperial. Lucy assured him that she would not be shopping with her mother again and would be there on time.

They spent so long admiring the works of nature in the caves that the attendant had to urge them to leave as it was past closing time. As they emerged into day light again John was surprised to see the sun had set and the assembled fleet had switched on their lights. As they leant on the railings there a chattering to their right.

"What on earth is that noise?" asked John in surprise.

"Monkeys. You said you wanted to see Gibraltar's apes, and here they are." As Lucy said it a pair of monkeys leapt on to the railings chattering at each other as if arguing.

"Oh that's what they are like. Much bigger than Gibber. And a different sound."

"Gibber? Who's Gibber?" asked Lucy.

"My brother's monkey," and John then explained about Roger and Titty finding Captain Flint's trunk, and getting a monkey and a parrot as rewards.

After he finished Lucy sighed, "You seem to have had such fun as children. I'm an only child and father thought it was not ladylike for me to spend time running wild, as he would call it. Everything had to be organised, walks in the park, visits to museums. But he didn't know everything that went on school though." she added with a mischievous grin.

Talking idly about nothing in particular they walked back down to the town. In one of he smaller squares Lucy said, "I'd better leave you here. I don't know what father would think of me being with a mere Midshipman."

"Are you sure? I ought to walk you right home."

"No, I'll be fine."

For a moment John hesitated, then said, "Good-bye then, and thank you for showing me around this afternoon. I've really enjoyed it."

"That's fine. Don't forget the day after tomorrow. Good-bye."

"I won't. Goodbye."

John watched as Lucy walked quickly across the square and disappeared down an alleyway between the tall houses. With a sigh he turned and walked back towards the harbour.

o – o – O – o – o

When he returned to the ship John realised that, for the first time in years, he had spent the afternoon alone in the company of a young woman who was not a Walker, a Blackett or a Callum. This made somehow him feel unfaithful to his friends. He had shared so much with them over the years, and they had helped to make the long school holidays so much more fun than ever he had hoped.

As he often did when thinking of Nancy he took out the little picture, not much larger than a postcard, of _Swallow_ she had painted for him the last summer before he joined the Navy. As he held it in his hands he realised that, other than exchanging cards at Christmas, they had not really written to each other for some time. Nancy was not the most reliable of letter writers and he often found it difficult to find anything to write about. He hoped that after all these years they were not drifting apart. Then, to his surprise, John found his eyes started to moisten and blur.

He determined to write to Nancy immediately and assure her that although he frequently got wrapped up in his shipboard duties, she was often in his thoughts. He took out pen and paper and sat down to write. He wrote of what he had seen and done since arriving back on board after Christmas, the picket boat and her crew, arriving in Gibraltar and seeing the sights, but he took care not to mention who he saw them with.

His letter finished he carefully sealed and addressed the envelope . Fortunately he had a postage stamp in his wallet so he stuck it on and took the letter to the sack for outgoing mail that always hung outside the ship's office. Feeling much better John prepared for bed and promised himself that although he would meet Lucy as agreed, he would only spend a minimal time with her and then say goodbye. He would contrive not to see her again.

o – o – O – o – o

Duty again the next day John and the crew of the First Picket Boat anticipated a similar day to their previous one, except that this time they were the late turn boat. It meant an extra two hours before they had to be ready but it would be a late finish, possibly very late.

In the event they were not as busy as they had been on the first day. Again John and his crew steamed all around the harbour ferrying officers between the ship and shore, and visiting other ships. This time though there were often gaps between the trips, allowing them time to eat their proper meals, though not always when they were still hot.

As expected they finished the last trip very late at night. It was past one o'clock in the morning when they came alongside the accommodation ladder for the final time and a group of rather tipsy officers disembarked, and John and crew could return the picket boat to the boat boom. He and Whittle took one last look around to check all was in order and the other crew would not find anything to complain about when they took over later in the morning.

o – o – O – o – o

The following afternoon John was again waiting for Lucy at The Imperial. This time the café was much quieter, probably due to the persistent heavy drizzle that had replaced the bright winter sun. John was glad he was not on duty in this weather, the boat's crew had looked thoroughly miserable as stood in the open cockpit with upturned collars as they tried to keep the wet from getting inside their oilskins.

As promised Lucy arrived at the pre-arranged time. After exchanging the usual pleasantries they ordered tea and cakes. While Lucy tucked into her chocolate and cream confection John toyed nervously with the contents of his plate. Finally he plucked up courage to say what was on his mind, "Lucy this is the last time I'll be able to see you. I won't have any more shore leave before we sail. But I must say I have really enjoyed spending time with you."

"Thank you. I've enjoyed it too."

"Oh good, I'm glad you did. I suppose this a problem with being a sailor, as soon as you meet someone you move on."

"Never mind John. I expect I'll meet lots more nice young men. There are always ships coming and going in the harbour." As Lucy said this she saw John's expression change. Was it surprise or disappointment? "I'm sorry, you're really sweet John, but you didn't expect this to be more than a few brief meetings while your ship was in harbour did you?"

John realised that although somewhere in the back of his mind he had imagined this was more than just a couple of afternoons spent in the company of a vivacious young lady, it meant little to Lucy.

They spent the remainder of the afternoon exploring the old fortifications of the rock, the Moorish fort and the batteries that had protected Gibraltar during the Napoleonic Wars. When they returned to the town John did not attempt to escort Lucy all the way back to her home and left her in the square as before. After saying goodbye Lucy briefly kissed him on the cheek, no more than a touch, then turned and walked off though the drizzle without looking back.

Feeling rather wretched , though unsure whether it was with himself or Lucy, John made his way back to the harbour. Down the main street he met Lorrimer-Coates and some of the others.

"Come and join us," they urged him. John was on the verge of saying "No", but suddenly the idea of a few hours with his messmates appealed as a way of putting Lucy from his mind.

o – o – O – o – o

Back on board John found that while he was ashore mail had arrived. Several envelopes lay in his pigeonhole. He looked at the handwriting on the envelopes. All were familiar: Mother, Titty and yes, one from Nancy. He pondered for a moment which to read first. It had to be Mother's.

He settled into one of the armchairs, slit the envelope open, and pulled out the folded sheets. It was one his mother's regular, chatty letters. Like so many he had received while at school and since he joined the Navy it was full of the inconsequential snippets that kept all the family in touch with each other; Bridget had gone down with a bad cold and was in bed curled up with Sinbad the cat, Mother herself had been shopping for new dining room curtains. The most interesting news was that Father's period of shore service was nearly finished and he hoped to get command of a destroyer flotilla soon.

He replaced the letter in the envelope and opened the one from Titty. His sister's main item of news was that a story she had written as a holiday task over Christmas had been judged the best in the class and her English teacher had suggested she should enter it in a national short story competition. John smiled at this, Titty had always been good at making up stories. Peter Duck was mainly her invention, and when she was younger she would keep herself amused with imaginary adventures in exotic locations.

Unable to wait any longer John opened the final envelope. Inside there was a single sheet of paper

_Dear John,_

_How are you enjoying the Mediterranean? Warmer than The Lakes I bet!_

_I thought I had better write to you before someone else does. I know everyone has assumed for the last few years that we would pair off as couple and I don't know how to put this gently but I have been seeing quite a bit of Mike. Remember him he's the boat builder who designed the GA._

_I don't feel quite the same about him as I did for you but we've been to a couple of dances together, and you're away so I thought I'd better write. I'm not explaining things very well but thank you for everything. I hope we can stay friends._

_Nancy_

John just sat stunned with the letter held in nerveless fingers. His mind whirled with memories, some distant and confused, some sharp. The first meeting with the Amazons on Wild Cat Island. Nancy taking charge at Horseshoe Cove after he sank Swallow through his own stupidity. Nancy's poor swollen face at the window when she caught mumps. The dozens of times when Nancy had inspired them to new adventures. She called him Commodore, but really she had always taken the lead. Was it all over now? Could they remain friends? Could he face visiting the Lake and meeting her again?

o – o – O – o – o

The next day he carried out his shipboard duties mechanically as _Royal Oak_ prepared to sail. At times the business of hoisting the picket boat back inboard and ensuring it was securely lashed in place occupied all his thoughts but as soon as he relaxed the words of Nancy's letter came back like grey clouds blotting out the sun.

Whittle noticed John's distraction, gone was the cheerfulness and openness that had characterised their previous duties together. In the way of senior ratings everywhere he had a habit of watching officers to gauge their moods and how it would affect his day. In his experience there could be two possible causes for this mood, women or money. His gut instinct ruled out the latter so he suspected it was a woman, possibly that girl in the yellow dress. She had been very forward on the evening of the reception.

"What's wiv our Snotty?" asked one of the bowmen, "Looks like 'e's lost a quid and found a farthin'."

"I dunno. Something's eating 'im up. It might be girl trouble. Best let 'im alone unless 'e says something," replied Whittle.

"Uh! Women! Love 'em 'n' leave 'em I says."

"I know what you says, and I don't 'old with 'ow you treats 'em. One day you'll get caught out."

"Come orf it PO. I was born lucky. They'll not catch me."

"We'll be leaving Gib in a few hours. He'll leave 'er behind and she'll soon be forgotten." As he said this Whittle mentally crossed his fingers. Young Walker was one of the better Midshipmen he had worked with, and he did not want him to change for the worse.


	13. Looking Back

The joint fleet exercises being over, Royal Oak was on passage from Gibraltar to Palma to allow the ship's company a period of relaxation before assuming patrol duties off the Spanish coast.

John had found the exercise period an exhausting, but at the same time, a very fulfilling experience. The ship, the squadron, in fact the whole fleet had been worked hard during the exercises. Since Royal Oak had commissioned the previous September the Captain and his officers had worked tirelessly at building up the ship's efficiency. Now the Admirals and their staffs had continued the work and melded the ships into a force that could respond to almost anything.

The feeling was similar to that during last few days of term at school, with the hard work over everyone was ready for a few days rest. Now, late in the forenoon watch the ship's company were turned to, sprucing up the ship so she would look her best when they entered port the next morning. Up on the boat tier John was supervising his crew as they finished touching up the paintwork of the picket boat. Work was relaxed at best as each was looking forward to their daily issue of rum. Minutes earlier the Master at Arms and Officer of the Day had led the daily procession to the spirit locker, and were even now measuring out the rations for the crew.

As he watched the men at work John let his mind wander back over some of the events of the previous week. It was better to think of what he done than reflect on the letter from Nancy.

Firstly there had been his regular bridge watches. While there he had seen at close quarters the way the Admiral had handled the battle squadron and its attendant destroyers and cruisers. Superficially it appeared so simple: the Admiral spoke with a few of the senior members of his staff, gave his orders and stood back while they were carried out by the ships under his command. Behind it all John realised that there was nearly forty years of experience, gradually acquired as he had followed the path that John himself was now following.

As he contemplated this John was beset with doubt that he could ever attain the highest ranks. Yes, he knew already his navigation skills were good, though they had not been tested without the safety net of more experienced officers to double check his calculations. He felt he was doing well with running the little crew of the picket boat. But, he wondered, how would he fare with a big ship, or a squadron of ships, and how would he be in a real battle situation?

He had also witnessed how a single, minor mistake by a relatively junior person could throw everything into disarray. A signalman had hauled down the wrong flag hoist, creating a potentially disastrous situation as ships started to obey the signal too early. What if he was to make a similar mistake? Surprisingly it was not the signals bosun who was first to notice the error, but the Captain. This made John realise that to command a warship an officer had to be aware of everything happening around him.

Then he recalled one of the main exercises when the ship conducted a gunnery exercise against an "enemy" force. During the battle practice John was at his Action Station in B turret with its two fifteen inch guns. As a Midshipman he normally had little responsibility there other than acting as messenger for the turret's commander, a Lieutenant. However, on this particular occasion the staff officer supervising how the crew performed announced that for the purposes of the exercise the turret had been hit and taken causalities. The Lieutenant was injured and John would have to take command of the turret. That was a frightening moment, despite already having been the navy for eighteen months he had not taken charge of such a large team of men and in such a situation.

As, with a pounding heart, John had slid into the turret commander's seat behind the great breech mechanisms he realised the crews were looking to him for orders. He had swallowed hard, taken a deep breath and raised his voice in the approved gunnery officer manner. "Gun crews report!"

"Left gun correct! Gun ready. " came the first reply.

Then "Right gun, sight setter, number two and number three casualties! Gun loaded!"

John gulped. This was not a simple exercise. For what seemed like an eternity but in reality was only a few seconds he wondered what to do. Then he saw the Chief of the turret make a slight gesture downwards. Of course, the men in the gun house were only part of the turret's crew. Below in the magazine and shell room were another forty men.

"Chief, send three men up from below to replace the casualties!" he ordered.

The chief grinned and passed the order down below. The staff officer remained expressionless and made a note on the pad he carried.

Perhaps he was not doing too badly after all. If the chief was willing to help him like that perhaps he had earned a little of that very precious commodity, respect.

A shout from one of his men roused John from his reverie and brought back to the present. The man had stood up to stretch his legs from where he was crouched low painting the bottom of the boat and taken a look around. "What're those planes doin' sir?" he asked pointing with his paintbrush.

"They'll be off the carrier." Whittle responded immediately, just taking a quick look towards the horizon. "Don't wave that bloody brush around. You'll get drips all over the deck."

John looked to where the man had pointed. Three aircraft appeared to be circling the ship. He shaded his eyes, trying to see them better. "They don't look like ours, they're certainly not Swordfish from the carrier."

Others around the ship paused whatever they were doing to watch the circling planes. From the bridge a signal lamp started to blink a message to the strange aircraft, which turned together and headed towards Royal Oak in a loose V formation. As they came closer it became clear to the watchers that bombs were suspended beneath the aircraft.

On the bridge the Officer of the Watch pressed the button which set alarm bells ringing throughout the ship and sent men running to their action stations, closing the watertight doors and hatches as they went. Even as John ran forward to his station the aircraft roared overhead, bombs tumbling towards the ship.

The first two dropped their lethal loads several hundred yards clear, sending up great fountains of water, which fell back harmlessly into the sea. The third bomb though landed close alongside, bursting right against Royal Oak's armoured belt, shaking the whole ship. The armour did its job and prevented the relatively small bomb from causing much damage. The blast, however, deflected upwards and caught those in the immediate area, throwing them to the deck.

Concentrating on dodging the various obstacles and people he encountered as he ran forward, John was not aware of the third bomb until it was too late. He felt the blast lift him from his feet and throw him to the deck. The last sensations he had were of a blow to the head and a sudden pain in his arm and shoulder, then blackness overtook him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: In reality Royal Oak was mistaken for the Spanish Nationalist cruiser Canarias and attacked by Spanish Republican aircraft in February 1937. On that occasion all the bombs fell well clear of the ship and caused no causalities.


	14. Aftermath

Surgeon Commander Morgan put down his pen, sat back in his chair and flexed the fingers of his right hand. "Why," he asked himself, "did I join a profession that requires writing so many reports? Still it could have been a lot worse this time."

He picked up the sheaf of papers from his desk and checked what he had written. The Captain expected a detailed summary of the casualties resulting from the attack by the Spanish aircraft, and here it was. Certainly not as serious as it could have been, but enough to keep the sick-bay staff busy for a while.

A tap at the door interrupted Morgan's reading. He looked up to see his Leading Sick Berth Attendant.

"What is it Bates?"

"Just to let you know Sir, Midshipman Walker's starting to come round."

"Thank you. I'll be through in moment."

Morgan finished checking his report before going through to the white painted sick-bay. In the nearest bed lay Midshipman Walker, who had been the most seriously injured of those brought in after the attack, and even that was not really serious. He held the patient's wrist and checked the pulse while watching his face. The eyes flickered open briefly and closed again.

"He's still pretty groggy Bates. I'll go up and speak to the Captain now, and check on Walker again when I come back."

The Surgeon Commander pulled on his uniform jacket and cap and headed up to the bridge to report to the Captain.

o – o – O – o – o

"Well boyo, how are you feeling?" Morgan asked John, his Welsh accent never stronger than when he was with a patient.

John groaned, "I've a terrible headache and my arm feels funny."

"I'm not surprised your head aches. That deck locker you were thrown against is much harder than the human head, and I've had to take a piece of shrapnel out of your arm. Nothing very major. A few days of rest and you'll be up and about again." As he spoke Morgan checked John's pulse and took a look at the livid bruise above his eye. "You'll have a wonderful shiner for a few days."

John winced as the surgeon gently touched the swollen and empurpled area where the force of the blast had thrown him against an ammunition locker.

"What happened? I remember the planes flying over, then I find I'm in here."

"The planes were Spanish, and probably mistook us for someone else, and dropped a few presents. Lucky really that they were such rotten shots."

"What about the others? My boat's crew?"

"Don't worry about them. There were a few bumps and bruises but nothing to write home about. Now you must rest."

John let his eyelids droop and within seconds he was asleep again.

Morgan turned to Bates, "Well, he seems lucid enough. That bang on the head doesn't seem to have done him any real harm. Keep an eye on him when he next wakes up. Let him have something to drink if he wants it, but not too much."

o – o – O – o – o

The next time John woke he felt a little better. His mouth was dry and his head still throbbed but it was not as bad as before. He tried to sit up and find something to drink. No sooner did he try to raise himself and Bates was at his side. "Take it easy Sir. No need to rush."

"Can I have a drink? I'm really thirsty?"

"Here you are sir. Now just sip it."

John took several sips from the glass offered to him. After a few minutes he felt slightly better.

"What time is it?" he asked, trying to raise his bandaged left arm to see his watch.

"Just after eight, First Watch," said Bates.

"What! Have I been asleep all this time?"

"Well most of it Sir."

"Did I dream it or did the MO say he had done something to my arm?"

"Yes, he had to take a piece of the Spanish bomb out of you. It wasn't in too deep and he's done a lovely job of sewing you up. He's put it by so you can have a souvenir to show your grandchildren."

o – o – O – o – o

The following morning John was pronounced well enough to have a light breakfast. Soon after the Surgeon Commander conducted his daily rounds of the patients in the battleship's sick-bay. He spent a considerable time at John's bedside, initially checking the state of the bruise on his head. Satisfied that the bang had caused nothing more than a magnificent black eye he moved on to the wounded arm.

John winced as the surgeon gently felt around and then gently cut away the dressing.

"Beautiful job, though I say so myself," murmured the surgeon as he worked.

With the bandages removed John had his first opportunity to see shrapnel wound. To his eyes the arm looked anything but beautiful; it was a patchwork of red, purple and black bruises, with a row of stitches marking where the piece of metal had been removed.

"Will it be all right when it heals properly? It looks really bad to me," asked John anxiously.

"All right! Of course it will be all right! A healthy young man like you should make a full recovery. Mind you it will be a while until you can use that arm fully, there's damage to the muscle, you see, but the wound is pretty straightforward. No rugby for a while at least."

"When can I return to duty Sir?"

"Let's not make any promises there. I'll decide when you're ready, and not before. Now before I redress it I must put some of this ointment on, it'll sting a bit, but try not to move that arm."

Morgan liberally covered the wound with a brown solution that looked suspiciously like the iodine that Susan used to treat their cuts and grazes when they were younger. Despite the warning John flinched as it first made contact with the wound. The pain soon subsided to a dull throb as first clean dressings and then a sling were applied.

"That'll do for now. Bates will tidy up everything, as I expect you'll be having some visitors before long."

While Bates fussed around, straightening the sheets and counterpane John lay back on his pillows, surprised at how tired he felt after Morgan's visit. He wondered who might visit him; probably some of the Midshipmen, they all tended to look out for each other. Perhaps Graves, as Sub of the Gunroom he was responsible for the Midshipmen's behaviour.

o – o – O – o – o

Later in the morning, just after the pipe for morning "Stand Easy" had echoed around the ship, the SBA re-appeared.

"Visitor for you Sir," he announced, and ushered in Whittle, who entered cautiously, as if uncertain of what his reception would be.

"'Ow are you doing Sir?" asked the Petty Officer.

"Not too bad, thank you PO. The doc says there should be no permanent damage so I should be back on duty soon."

"That's good Sir, we were worried you'd be sent back 'ome, and we'd get another Middy."

"You won't get rid of me that easily. I hope I'll be around for some time yet."

"That's good news Sir. Me and the lads 'ad a quick whip round and bought you some nutty from the canteen." Whittle handed over two bars of chocolate. "We're not sure which is your favourite, so I brought a choice."

"Thank you, and make sure you thank the crew from me. It is very thoughtful of you. Were any of them hurt?"

"Not really, a few scrapes that's all. You're the one we were worried about. Do you know when you'll be back on duty Sir?"

"I really don't know. The doc says it shouldn't be too long, but I don't see myself climbing the jacob's ladder with my arm in a sling."

"Perhaps they'll let you board from the accommodation ladder Sir. I can bring the boat round from the boom."

"I know you could. You're as good a boat handler as anyone I know. Where did you learn? Was it all with the navy?"

"No Sir, I was working with boats almost as soon as I could walk. My old dad's skipper of a Thames barge an' I learnt on the job with 'im. When I was still knee high to grasshopper I 'ad to take the 'elm if we 'ad a stackie."

"Sorry, what was that?" asked John, "A stackie?"

"When we carried a haystack as cargo. It'd be piled so high dad couldn't see over it. So 'e sits on top of it an' I'd 'ave to steer to 'is instructions. Didn't 'appen often though as there are usually special barges for stackies. We sailed all around the Thames Estuary and the South East with no end of cargoes, grain, coal, spuds, you name it we carried it. Dad could get that boat in almost anywhere there was water enough to float 'er. It was a pleasure to watch 'im bring 'er up to a quay in some backwater."

"I'd like to see that. When we were near Shotley we saw the barges on the River Orwell."

"Often we'd be up there to Ipswich, and up the Deben to Woodbridge. Dad's still sailing the old _Welcome_ so you might see 'er some day. Now I must be getting on an' keep an eye the others. Hope to see up again soon sir."

"Yes, thank you for the chocolate PO."

No sooner had Whittle departed than John could more voices outside. Morgan's Welsh lilt was easily recognisable, another was familiar but John could not immediately place it, certainly not Graves or one of the Midshipmen. Bates came back in and fussed around, brushing an invisible speck from the spotless sheet.

"Best if you sit up a bit more Sir, you've got another visitor."

With Bates' aid John was able to sit up and waited to see who the visitor was.

Bates then stood by the door and called "'Tenshun in the sickbay, Captain approaching!"

John stiffened beneath the bedclothes, surely the Captain wasn't coming to visit him? But he was. He came straight to where John lay, with the Surgeon Commander following close behind.

The Captain spoke kindly "At ease Walker. You're not on parade. I've just come to see how you are and update you on what has happened. The air is thick with signals following that attack. It turns out those aircraft were flown by supporters of the Spanish government. We were attacked because they were after the _Canarias_ , a cruiser taken over the so-called nationalists. The airmen saw a single funnelled warship and attacked, despite us being more than twice the size of their cruiser and having the destroyers in company.

"The Spanish have apologised for the attack, not I expect it makes much difference to how you feel at the moment. Their Lordships at the Admiralty are very twitchy, but we have been ordered not to retaliate in case it prompts other attacks on our ships. I expect this will cause a few headlines in the papers back home and a question or two in the House and then it be overtaken by another event and interest will die down. Until then you are not to speak about it to anyone if you ashore, especially not the gentlemen of the press. My secretary will prepare a statement that you will read out if necessary. Do you understand?"

"Aye, aye, Sir," replied John overcome with the implications of what had happened.

"Good man. Now I'm sure you'll be interested to know that the ship's programme is changing. We are now returning to Gib this afternoon, where divers will take a look at what damage that bomb did. After that I can't say what our programme will be."

"Yes Sir," John felt his reply was inadequate, but could not think what else to say.

"Right, I'd better be off, much to attend to before we berth. By the way are you related to Captain Ted Walker?"

Yes Sir, he's my father."

"Thought so, there's a definite family likeness. Years ago we served together on the old _Superb_. Remember me to him when you next see him," and with that the Captain turned and headed out of the sick bay.

After the Captain left John fell to in to thinking. He had not considered the implications of the attack beyond the immediate effect on him. But of course it was a diplomatic incident, forces of one country attacking those of another. Fifty years ago or less an attack on a British warship, and a flagship at that, would have caused an immediate and powerful response. Britain was now bound by a network of treaties and attacking another European country could only happen after careful consideration by politicians.

Mention of his father made him think of the rest of the family and home. He ought to write and tell them what had happened, if this incident did appear in the newspapers they would not mention any names, but mother would be sure to worry unless he told her he was safe. Susie and Bridget would worry as well, but Titty would romanticise it, imagining him as a hero and saving the ship single-handed. As for Roger, well he would probably look on the episode as lark and be more interested in the aircraft, while being secretly being concerned for his elder brother.

From his family his thoughts drifted on to Nancy and Peggy, especially Nancy. There had been no mail delivered to the ship since the start of the exercise. The last he had heard was that rather abrupt letter that indicated she was more interested in Mike than him and it was all over between them. His relationship with Nancy was a friendship that had grown over the years. Perhaps they had just grown-up a bit more and moved apart.

John frowned as he lay there. Perhaps the trouble was him! Or rather that he was not there! Sometimes, he knew, Nancy missed not having a father during her childhood. True, there was her Uncle Jim but he had often gone away for months at a time trying to make his fortune, but Nancy, and Peggy, had mainly grown up surrounded by other females. When he and the other Walkers had appeared during the holidays John had probably been the first boy of her own age that Nancy had had any close contact with. Now she was meeting others. Others who were not hundreds of miles away. Others who were available to go to dances and share picnics.

Miserably John turned his face to the pillow and shed a tear, not so much for losing Nancy, but for the end of childhood. Up until now the Navy had seemed a little unreal, a dream, something to aim for. Now he realised it was a whole new life that could keep him apart from family and friends, and if events had been worse, could have taken him from them completely.


	15. Captain and Son

As John feared there was a queue for the telephone kiosks on the dockside. He considered going on further, even into Portsmouth town centre, but decided the time to do that could be longer than waiting here. To start with he watched the activity around him in the dockyard, but after a while he took out a letter and started to re-read it. One paragraph in particular he had read so many times it was burned into his memory.

_I'm sorry about my previous letter, I realise now I was a bit of a galoot to be so abrupt with you but it all happened so quickly and Mike insisted I wrote to you immediately. But now I think there is something he's not telling me and I might have made a dreadful mistake._

Before John could read further a sailor nudged him. "Your turn," he said.

While he had been reading the letter the queue had moved up surprisingly quickly. Stepping into the now vacant kiosk John picked up the handset and dialled the operator. He gave her the number he wanted and waited.

"Connecting you now," said the distant voice, then after a pause "You're through.".

"Thank you."

John could hear the ringing tone at the other end. "Please be there," he muttered.

Just as he was about to give up a voice answered. "Hello, Beckfoot, Mrs Blackett speaking."

John took a deep breath, "Hello, it's John Walker. Is Nancy there please?"

"John! What a surprise! Are you back in England? Peggy told me that Susan had written to her and told her about your injury. It must have been dreadful. How are you now?"

"My arm is still a bit stiff, but much better now thank you."

"Oh that's good. We have heard some terrible stories about what is happening in Spain. We hear some awful things on the wireless. You'll have to tell us all about your adventures."

"Yes, yes. Is Nancy there please?"

"No, she took _Amazon_ out early this morning and isn't back yet. Can I give her a message?"

"Yes... No. I'll try calling another time. Good bye"

"Good bye then."

"Good bye."

John carefully replaced the telephone and stepped back out into the quayside. He checked his watch, nearly twenty to five, he must have been waiting longer than he thought. Instead of going back to the _Royal Oak_ he set off through the maze of dockyard buildings. Soon he came to a large basin where several destroyers were berthed. Checking each carefully in turn he headed toward one with a broad black band around the top of her fore funnel that marked her out as a flotilla leader.

At the end of the gangway was a decorative lifebuoy displaying the ship's crest and name: _HMS Kempenfelt_. Confidently John mounted he gangway and saluted. The duty quartermaster stepped forward. "Can I help you sir?" he asked.

"Yes, I've come to see Captain Walker."

The quartermaster looked at John for a moment, taking in his junior rank, then asked "May I ask who you are sir?"

"Yes, I'm Midshipman John Walker, his son." John showed his naval identity card to confirm this.

"Thank you sir. I believe the captain's in his day cabin. Do you know the way?"

"I think I can find it, thank you."

John headed aft to the small deckhouse beyond the second set of torpedo tubes. All the time having to avoid cables and other equipment strewn across the deck, that showed the ship was still in the hands of dockyard for a refit. Before he reached the structure though the familiar figure of his father stepped through the screen door, followed by another officer in the uniform of a Lieutenant Commander.

Slightly self-consciously John saluted. Gravely his father returned the salute, then laughed. "Well that's KRs* satisfied. How are you?"

"Not too bad now, thank you. My arm's a bit stiff at times, but I can use it almost as normal now."

"Good man. This is Lieutenant Commander Haddon, my First Lieutenant. Nick this is my son John." the other officer nodded and extended a hand, which John shook. "We were just going to take a turn around the upper deck to see what kind of mess the dockyard are leaving us in today. I sometimes despair that this refit will finish on time."

"Are they doing much?"

"No, just some work in the engine room and some modifications to the gunnery control system. Typical dockyard mateys, they work at the speed of the slowest man, but if you dare to say anything they'll down tools and call a union meeting."

As they talked the three walked forward to A gun then back and up the ladders to the bridge. All the time Captain Walker's eyes were taking in all the details of his command, mentally recording what work was completed and what was still to be done. A couple of time he mentioned things to his First Lieutenant for attention later.

Up on the deserted bridge John tried to imagine what it would be like with the ship tearing through the water at thirty knots or more, spray flying back from the bows and the wind whipping at the officers on the bridge. His ambition was to command a destroyer like _Kempenfelt_.

Ted Walker noticed the faraway look on his son's face. "Thinking of what it's like to command this beauty?"

John was surprised that his thoughts had been guessed so easily, "Yes, it's what we all want, but I wonder how many of us will really do it."

"Probably more than you think. The building programme is being stepped up. It looks like the aim is to build two flotillas a year now, not like when they ordered this flotilla and cancelled four ships because the politicians thought it would encourage other countries to disarm. If we go to war those four ships will be missed."

"Do you really think there will be a war?"

"I'm sure of it. The only question is when. Germany is building up both her army and her navy, and Hitler is going to want to use them at some time. But we ought to talk of happier things. It's not often I get to see you these days. Come on, we'll go down to my cabin and I'll get my steward to find something for us to eat. The Chief will be dropping by later with his report of progress in the engine room."

Captain Walker led the way back aft to his day cabin. Gesturing to John to sit in one of the armchairs he dropped into the other himself. No sooner was he seated than a face appeared in the pantry hatch. "Can I get you anything sir?"

"Yes, some tea please, and whatever cake you've got."

"Of course sir. Be with you in minute," the face vanished as suddenly as it appeared.

"My steward," laughed Captain Walker, "He should be on leave with the rest of his watch but he says he doesn't trust the wardroom steward to look after me properly. I think he's trying to train me to his ways."

"How long have you had the _Kempenfelt_?" asked John. "It must have been less than a month ago that mother wrote and said you were hoping for a command."

"It's only a little less than that. The previous skipper got taken rather ill and was sent ashore. I was available at short notice and got drafted in to replace him. The ship was already in for her refit so I've not taken her to sea yet. But I didn't ask you over just to show off my new toy. I want to hear your news."

For the next quarter of an hour father and son, Captain and Midshipman, drank tea, ate fruitcake and talked of what each been doing since they had last met. Finally came the question that John had been expecting and at the same time dreading. "Have you heard anything from Nancy recently?"

He looked down and drank the last dregs of tea before replying. "I had a letter while we were in Gib before the exercise. She's seeing someone else," he said flatly.

His father was silent for a moment. Although he only met the Blackett sisters once he had sensed something between Nancy and John that in their youth possibly they had not realised. The two had complemented each other so well. Nancy, impetuous and imaginative, John dependable and conscientious, both good leaders, but in different ways.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked.

"Well, we never actually agreed anything, but there was sort of unspoken understanding, if you know what I mean." His father nodded. "She's met this boat-builder who designed her new boat. It is a good one and they saw quite a bit of each other and well... He's there and I'm not." John shrugged as if to say it was no matter to him.

"Have you written to her since?"

"No, she wrote to me again. A letter was waiting when we got in. I tried telephoning earlier but she'd gone out sailing and Mrs Blackett didn't know when she'd be back."

"Do you want to try calling again? One of the perks of command is that I have a 'phone of my own. I can slip out for a while if you would rather have some privacy."

"Thank you, but I'll leave it a little longer. She should be back by sunset, even Nancy wouldn't sail after dark without good reason." At this comment Ted Walker raised a questioning eyebrow. John looked slightly abashed as he remembered the events of the first summer the Walkers had holidayed in the Lake District. Neither said anything about it though.

The steward popped his head through the pantry hatch again. "Will you be eating aboard tonight sir?"

"No thank you. I'm treating my son to a meal ashore tonight. You can go off now I won't need you until the morning."

"Thank you sir." The head disappeared again.

"Well John, do you want to go somewhere and eat now? I know a nice little place in Southsea that does a good roast dinner, probably a lot better than the Midshipmen's berth provides."

"That sounds good to me."

"Right my treat. I'll tell Number One where I'm going, just in case he needs me. Then we can be off."

o – o – O – o - o

Captain and Midshipman, father and son arrived back at _Kempenfelt's_ gangway after a good meal and continuing to catch up with each other's news. John told his father all he could remember of the air attack on _Royal Oak_ and what little he knew of the situation in Spain. In return Ted Walker told him of some of the tribulations of commissioning a ship coming out of reserve and taking over the running of the flotilla.

"What time do you have to be back on board?" asked Ted.

"Ten o'clock."

"Plenty of time yet then. Do you fancy a night cap?"

"Thank you, just a small one. Earlier you said I could use your telephone, do you mind if I do now?"

"Of course not. Do you have the number? The dockyard exchange will probably connect me a little more promptly. Privilege of rank."

"Thank you father."

While Captain Walker spoke to the operator John dictated the number to him.

"There you are John. It's ringing. I'll take a walk around the upper deck for a while and leave you to make your call in peace."

John smiled gratefully at his father and took the receiver. Almost immediately a familiar female voice answered. "Hello, Beckfoot."

"Hello? Nancy? It's me, John."

"Hello."

There was an awkward pause for a moment, then Nancy spoke again, "I must apologise to you what happened with Mike and I. He was so...so... Oh I don't know! Charming. Insistent. Different from most of the young men round here. Anyway I found out something yesterday that I had to think about. That's why I spent the day on the Lake by myself. It's still jolly cold here by the way."

Impatiently John interrupted, wanting to know what it was she had learned. "But what did you find out."

"A few days ago Uncle Jim said he'd heard a story that Mike didn't exactly come here of his own accord, it was more like he was persuaded to, or sent away by the family."

"Why would that be? Didn't he have good job back at where-ever-it-was-on-Thames?"

"Yes he did. Uncle Jim wouldn't tell me any more. He said I had to make up my own mind. I went to the boatyard yesterday. I knew Mike was looking at a boat at the Arctic end of the lake that had hit the steamer pier there, so I sailed over to speak to Robert his uncle."

"What did he say?"

"At first he didn't want to discuss Mike's past at all. But when I pushed him a bit he came clean. Mike was sent up here because he got a girl in trouble and both families wanted to hush things up."

"The rotten beast! He hasn't... I mean... You...?" John could not ask the question he wanted to.

"Jib-booms and bobstays! John Walker, you idiot! How dare you even think it! I may have been a bit of a galoot but I'm not that stupid. I saw him this afternoon when he got back and told him from now on our relationship is strictly business-related and if he thinks otherwise he can go and jump in the lake!"

John laughed with relief and at the vision of an angry Nancy giving Mike his marching orders. He suspected the actual terms used were stronger than those she spoken to him.

"Oh John can you ever forgive me?"

"Of course I forgive you. That is if you can forgive me for even thinking that you might have... er..."

"John Walker, shut up this instant or I'll keelhaul you under that great battlewagon of yours. It's all over between me and Mike. Now, can I see you again before someone else tries to blow you up?"

"I don't think so," even over the telephone Nancy could detect the disappointment in John's voice. " _Royal Oak_ will only be in dry dock for couple of days. Boffins are coming down from the Admiralty to work out if the bomb dented the armour or something. The sort of stuff Dick would get excited about."

"But what about afterwards?"

"We go back to Gib. It's a two year commission so I don't expect to be back again until summer next year. I suppose it's an occupational hazard of being a sailor, suffering long periods away from the ones you love." John paused. It was a while since he had spoken that word aloud to Nancy.

Nancy filled the silence, "Don't worry, I can wait," she said softly. Then continued in her normal voice, "But you had better come back in one piece. I was really worried when Peggy told me you were hurt."

They chattered on for several minutes more, just if there had never been anything between them. They might have talked all night had Captain Walker not returned and suggested the official telephone should not be used too long for unofficial purposes.

After a lingering goodbye John reluctantly replaced the receiver. His father looked at his smiling face, "I suppose that expression means things are better between you two now?"

"Yes. Yes, most definitely"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *KRs = King's Regulations, the rules that govern conduct in the Royal Navy.


	16. A Quiet Middle Watch

"I have the ship." With those words John officially took charge of _HMS Teignmouth_ for the Middle Watch.

The off-going officer of the watch, Lieutenant Harris, paused at the top of the bridge ladder before heading below for a few hours of welcome sleep. "Hope it stays this quiet John. Nights like this make it all worthwhile." He indicated the vast starlit expanse of sky, with the hazy band of the Milky Way almost right overhead. "Still, can't I stay here all night. I need my bunk. Goodnight." Harris then quickly descended the ladder leaving the new watch to themselves.

John was quietly proud to be in charge of the ship. He still experienced a slight thrill when taking over. Appointed to _Teignmouth_ when he was promoted to Sub Lieutenant only the previous July, he barely had time to settle in to his new ship and rank before the war against Germany broke out. Now, after six months of war John and the ship were veterans.

The British Army was positioned in France ready to meet the Germans, if they attacked. The newspapers were calling it a "Phoney War" because nothing was happening on land, but at sea it was very different. Submarines and surface raiders were trying to starve Britain into submission and a desperate shortage of escort vessels meant _Teignmouth_ and her sisters were in constant demand. Since September they had escorted convoys of cargo ships to and from British ports with barely a break for anything more than the most basic maintenance. Mainly this had entailed escorting an outward bound convoy into the Atlantic, then leaving them to bring an inward convoy home. This time, due to a temporary shortage of ships, T _eignmouth_ was assigned to duty in the North Sea.

John reminded himself of the situation. _Teignmouth_ was part of the escort for a convoy heading slowly south down the East Coast of England. Twin lines of merchant ships stretched for several miles along the swept channel. Up ahead somewhere in the darkness the lines were led by an elderly destroyer, built for service in the war against the Kaiser's navy, she was now twenty three years old and fighting Hitler's forces. Her captain was senior officer of the escort. Tagging along at the back was another old-timer, a trawler taken by the navy from her peacetime role and sent out to fight. Her fishing gear replaced by an elderly 3-inch gun, ASDIC submarine detection equipment and depth charges.

Here in the middle was the _Teignmouth_ , almost brand-new compared to her companions having slid down a slipway into the River Tyne only three years previously. Designed as a general purpose escort vessel, she carried four 4 inch guns in two twin mountings, along with several smaller weapons as anti-aircraft defence. Down aft depth charges, like large dustbins, rested in their racks ready to deal with any submarines the ship should encounter. Within her 200 feet length _Teignmouth_ was home to a hundred sailors ranging from the youngest stoker to Franks, the commanding officer.

Out to starboard John could make out the outline of the coast against the sky. To port there was nothing but the dark water of the North Sea, occasionally reflecting a spark of light from the stars overhead. Ahead and astern he could see the dark shapes of the merchant ships of the convoy. All were showing a dim blue sternlight to aid station-keeping, but on a clear night like this it was barely necessary. The convoy was steaming at 6 knots, the speed of the slowest ship. These were the usual mixed bunch found on these convoys, mainly smaller ships that rarely passed out of sight of land, with a smattering of ocean-going vessels heading for their final port. There were colliers that joined from the Tyne and would keep the power stations of the capital supplied with coal. Other ships carried iron and steel from Teesside, fuel oil, manufactured goods, and foodstuffs. These convoys were the nation's life blood and a small part of an interlinking series routes that stretched from Britain west across the Atlantic to Canada, and south down to Gibraltar and on round the globe.

Although he had checked the chart with Harris when he took over the watch John returned to the covered chart table at the back of the bridge and ran his finger along the plotted course. Yes, he thought so. During this watch they would pass near the Sunk lightship. That lightship held a special place in his memories. The first time he had taken charge of a boat at sea he had listened to sound of the Sunk's foghorn as he steered the yacht _Goblin_ through fog and then a gale across the North Sea. It was an achievement that settled his mind that he wanted to follow his father into the Navy and command his own ship.

That night, as a fourteen year old on the _Goblin,_ he had been more scared that he cared to admit to anyone. When he went forward to reef the mainsail and had slipped he thought for a moment that he was going overboard. It had taken all his strength and courage to claw his way back to the mast and slowly wind the handle to roll the sail around the boom. If he had funked it the consequences could have been disastrous. The _Goblin_ would probably have succumbed to the gale and he and his brother and sisters lost in the wild sea.

A little further along the coast were the creeks and rivers of Essex, amongst them the "Secret Archipelago" where he and his sisters and brother had been "marooned" on a tidal island amid the backwaters and they had been surprised by the Blackett sisters joining them after a few days.

John often thought of Nancy and Peggy, well mainly Nancy. Although she was no longer seeing Mike from the boat builders John felt guilty that he could not see her more. Sea time on the battleship _Royal Oak_ , then the cruiser _Penelope_ and most of that being overseas had not given them many opportunities to meet, so all their recent contact was by letter. He frequently wondered what she was doing.

The previous year the Admiralty announced the Women's Royal Naval Service was reforming to enable women to fill posts that would release men for sea service. Nancy was one of the first to volunteer. Her enthusiasm and knowledge got her noticed and she was selected to be an officer, and now proudly wore the single blue stripe of a Third Officer and was serving on the staff Admiral Ramsey at Dover. Maybe, just maybe, _Teignmouth_ would be in port long enough for him to travel to Dover.

Mentally giving himself a shake John closed the canvas cover over the chart table and returned to the compass platform. Some called the Middle the Graveyard Watch. John thought differently. Yes, with dusk and dawn Action Stations, it meant there was no chance of a decent night's sleep. On the plus side Officer of the Watch at night was as close to independence he had. There was just him in charge of the ship at the moment. If anything happened his initial reaction was what counted. The captain could be on the bridge in seconds from his tiny sea cabin, but it was the Officer of the Watch who knew what was happening and would brief him of the situation.

"Officer of the Watch, Sir, starboard lookout." The call rang clearly across the bridge.

John responded immediately, "Officer of the Watch."

"Flashing light bearing green three zero."

John raised his binoculars and looked along the bearing. A dim light swam into his view. Before he could say anything the lookout called again. "Looks like a wreck buoy sir."

"Very good." As John gave the time honoured response to the report he realised how inappropriate it was. It was certainly not good that that so many ships had already been sunk. Ships sunk, cargoes lost, men drowned. Most of the sunken ships here were the victims of mines. Laid by aircraft or fast ships in the shallow waters round the coast these hidden weapons lurked below the surface waiting for the touch of a passing vessel to set off their deadly load of high explosives.

He watched the buoy pass no more than a couple of cables away to port. Beyond it he could just make out the outline of the masts and upperworks of the sunken ship. How things had changed because of the war. In peacetime no captain would allow his ship this close to a wreck at night with just a Sub-lieutenant in charge of the watch, now it was just another accepted risk.

The watch slowly ran its course. At regular intervals the lookouts, helmsman and telegraphsmen changed round to keep alert. The reports drifted up the voicepipe from the wheelhouse below. All followed a form of words established in the days of the sailing navy and developed to suit steamships. They were all the latest pieces in a jigsaw of naval history stretching back hundreds of years.

Between responding to reports and conning the ship John kept himself alert by thinking of situations and how he should react. What if the ship ahead was to strike a mine now? What if the steering gear was to fail? His father had once told him to prepare for the unexpected, then it wouldn't be unexpected. A good maxim, but there was so much that could happen at sea, especially in wartime.

His thoughts were interrupted by the bridge messenger "Mug of kye sir?"

He took the proffered mug of cocoa gratefully and wrapped his hands around it, relishing the heat, "Thank you Sykes." He took a sip, this was the real thing, thick and warming with just a hint of rum. John decided not to enquire about the rum. "That's a good brew, have the rest of the watch got some?"

"Yes sir, a whole fanny was sent up from the galley. Might even be second helps later."

John leant against the bridge screen as he sipped his cocoa. Despite the horrors that the war was throwing at the Navy he was content.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: This was originally written sometime ago as a one off. When I started John Walker RN, I decided to modify it to become a chapter in the longer piece and have it act as an introduction to the next stage of John's career.
> 
> Although HMS Teignmouth is a fictitious ship she is based on HMS Fleetwood, a later member of the Grimsby class of escort sloops. She differed from her predecessors in having a heavier armament of four 4 inch AA guns in twin mountings, hence her utility in coastal waters where the chance of air attack was high.


	17. Into the Fjords

John shivered as another flurry of sleet swirled around the ship. He moved into the lee of the after 4-inch gun mount hoping to find a little shelter, but that provided little protection from the elements. At least the poor weather conditions meant they were unlikely to be attacked by aircraft. As the air cleared he raised his binoculars and again scanned the nearby coast. A few lights showed the locations of isolated settlements but nothing indicated whether the land was under British or German control. He turned and looked astern, just in time to see the dark shape the _St Enoch_ emerge from the shower. _St Enoch_ was a small passenger steamer, in happier times plying her trade around the Clyde and the Western Isles, but now pressed into military service.

The war in Norway was not going well for the Allies. From the start German forces had achieved complete surprise and seized key points before the Norwegians or the British could respond. After a period of confusion British and French troops were put ashore in central and northern Norway, but they were not strong enough or well enough organised to hold back the German forces. Attacked by highly-trained troops who enjoyed the benefit of close air support, the allies were being driven back to the ports where they had landed. The current task for _Teignmouth_ and her consort were to take off some of those troops and return them to Britain.

Before the operation started the commanding officer, Commander Franks, had briefed his officers. _Teignmouth_ would escort _St Enoch_ into the fjord and then up to a small fishing port where an infantry battalion was cut off from other Allied forces. The plan was to complete the operation before dawn, allowing the two ships to withdraw to open water before the aircraft of the Luftwaffe found them. He further explained that the situation ashore was extremely confused and they had to be prepared to abort the mission immediately if it proved that the harbour area was under enemy control.

The crew of _HMS Teignmouth_ had been at action stations since entering the fjord and were now at the most difficult part of the passage in the last grey light of the day. Here the fjord narrowed to less than a mile and an error of navigation could leave the ships aground and easy prey for the Luftwaffe come daylight. The only sounds were the throb of the engines and the hum of the boiler room fans. It was as if the whole ship was holding her breath. Although John knew they were only making about eight knots it seemed as if they were rushing headlong through the narrows. To each side the surrounding hills climbed from the waters' edge in a way that reminded him of the hills of the Lake District. The coast was close but not dangerously so. He felt the ship start to turn and lights of the town came into view. They were through the narrowest part and on the final approach to the harbour.

A signal lamp flickered from the shore and a lamp on _Teignmouth's_ bridge wing flashed briefly in reply. It became apparent everything was clear. The ships were going in.

o – o – O – o – o

Within minutes of securing alongside the quay a steady trickle of soldiers was coming aboard both ships and being directed below by members of the ship's company. The mess decks would be packed, but it would only be for a day or two until the soldiers could be put ashore again.

Although it all seemed peaceful ashore the _Teignmouth's_ guns were manned continuously in case it became necessary to drive off enemy troops. John remained at his station on the aft shelter deck by the 4-inch gun mounting, where he had a commanding view of most of the quayside.

A seaman appeared at his side. "Sub Lieutenant Walker Sir, Captain wants you to join him in the charthouse. He's got some army blokes with him too."

John descended the ladder to the main deck and made his way forward. In the charthouse he found the CO, the First Lieutenant and two army officers bent over a chart of the fjord. Franks straightened up. "Walker, I've got a job for you. The Colonel here," he gestured to the shorter of the army officers, "has some men isolated on the other side of this inlet, and wants us to get them out. Colonel please tell Sub Lieutenant Walker what you told us just now."

"Thank you. Right, as we fell back to the town with the main body of the battalion we put out a platoon as a flank guard in case the Germans came around us and tried approaching from the west. Also an observation team was positioned here," he pointed on the chart to a hill overlooking the harbour, "to give us a better view of the area. Unfortunately when Jerry came he occupied the bridge, here at the top of this inlet, cutting off those units from the rest of my men. Your captain has identified a suitable landing place, here, where a small boat can get in. I will signal to my men to withdraw to there. Your job will be to bring them back."

John looked at his captain, then the Colonel. "Sir, how many men are we talking about? A platoon is what, twenty, thirty men?"

"We've got thirty six men there in all, including two officers."

"Which boat do I use sir?"

It was the First Lieutenant who replied, "Neither of the ship's boats. The way we are berthed means we can't launch the motor cutter and the whaler is too small and slow. Further along the quay there is a harbour launch. The Chief has sent a couple of his men along to see about getting it started."

John nodded, "Thank you." He turned back to Franks, "How long do I have sir?"

"We can't say exactly," answered Franks, "the embarkation is going well and I want to leave as soon as possible so as to be clear of the coast well before dawn. I don't want to be caught in the fjord in daylight. If you have not returned I will sound the ship's siren fifteen minutes before we slip. That should give plenty of time to get back. If you are not back before we leave we'll assume you have run into trouble and can't get away. I can't risk both ships and the troops for just a few men. You'll be on your own."

John nodded, and already his brain was already busy with the task ahead. He bent over the chart checking the depths and tracing the best route to the landing place. His finger stopped at a pencilled annotation. "What's this?" he asked.

Franks looked at where he was pointing, "It's a partially sunken ferry or some such similar local ship. Apparently it was shot up by enemy planes earlier today and went aground in the shallow water. The wreck is unlit, of course. The position marked is a best estimate. You'll need to keep a good lookout and try to stay well clear."

"What men can I take sir?"

"The Chief will leave one of his men to look after the engine. Take a seaman as well. Is there one who you'd prefer?"

"I'll take AB Daniels if may, Sir. He's a good hand and is hoping to get his leading rate soon so something like this could do him good."

"Very well. Best carry sidearms as well, just in case."

"Aye aye Sir."

As John turned to leave the Colonel spoke, "Do your best to bring my men back. They're all good soldiers and I think we'll need all the good soldiers we can muster before this war is over."

"I'll do my best Sir."

o – o – O – o – o

Accompanied by Able Seaman Daniels, John made his way along the quayside to the launch. It was a squat, purposeful craft designed for general work around the harbour, and looked much like a fishing boat with a small wheelhouse towards the stern, a hatch leading down to the engine compartment and a clear deck for carrying stores.

A stoker met them at the as they came aboard. "All ready to go sir. Engine is running and seems sweet as a nut."

"Thank you, Shaw, " replied John, "Is it controlled from the wheelhouse?"

"Yes Sir, simple lever next to the wheel. Shove it forrard to go ahead, pull it back to go astern. Nothin' to it."

John directed the mooring lines to be slipped, Daniels pushed the bow out with a boathook and John cautiously eased the engine control lever ahead. The boat slowly slid away from the quay. John increased speed a little and headed across to the opposite side of the inlet to where the landing stage was marked on the chart. A sudden flurry of snow blew across the water, spattering against the wheelhouse windows and reducing visibility to just a few yards.

As the snow cleared Daniels shouted, "Watch out sir! Something fine on the port bow, 'bout half a cable away!"

"Thank you Daniels. Must be that sunken ferry."

John swung the wheel hard to starboard and a dim shape passed down their port side. Letting out his breath in relief John made a mental note to keep a better lookout for it on the way back as the wreck seemed to be further from the shore than shown by the navigator's estimated position.

He slowed the boat as they approached the opposite side of the inlet and started looking for the landing place. A light flashed in the darkness and he cautiously steered towards it. He hoped this was the unit he had come to collect, but in case it was not he undid the flap on the holster at his hip and loosened the revolver ready for use.

From the shore a voice called out "Who goes there?"

Daniels replied "Royal Navy. Who's there?"

"Army. Are we glad to see you."

As the launch slid alongside the short jetty a figure materialised from where it had been crouching beside a pile of empty fish boxes. "Sergeant Jones, Lincolnshire Regiment. I was afraid you were a Jerry. Just in case you were I've got half a dozen rifles trained on this jetty." He turned and called across the seemingly deserted area behind, "It's alright lads. It's the Navy come for us."

The sergeant turned back to John, "I've about thirty men here sir. There are a few more as the rearguard with the Captain keeping an eye on Jerry back near the main road. The Captain has been injured and told us to make our way back here while he withdraws slowly. Somewhere around is our Lieutenant, but he disappeared back by the bridge when the Jerries showed up."

John considered whether to wait for the rearguard and make a single trip but realised it would seriously overcrowd the boat. Much better to take these men across to the ship and return for the others, it would only take twenty minutes or so and, as far as he could judge, the intermittent sounds of small arms fire were still moving towards the town, not coming closer.

"Right sergeant, bring your men aboard and we'll return for the others later."

The NCO quickly organised his men. Two soldiers retired a short distance down the road to wait for the rearguard. The remainder embarked, and within minutes the harbour launch was chugging back across to the waiting ships. This time they were on the lookout for the unlit wreck and were able to give it a wide berth. It took only minutes to disembark the passengers and direct them along to the _St Enoch_. Soon the launch was starting its second return trip to the jetty, where John hoped the rest of the soldiers would now be waiting.

After bringing the launch alongside John stepped ashore to find the remaining troops. He was met by a burly officer, who immediately tried to push past and on to the boat.

"Hold on. Where are the rest of your men?" demanded John.

"Back there somewhere. They'll never get away. The Germans are coming! Shove off and get us out of here."

"I'm not leaving without trying to take as many of your men as possible. Where are your Captain and the others?" In reply the other just shrugged.

Just then a low call came from the buildings across from the foot of the jetty. "Lieutenant Owden! Over here sir. We need your advice!"

Owden called back, "Get over here! We're leaving! Now!"

The voice from the darkness called back. "Captain Jenkins and the others aren't here yet. We can't go without them! Can't you come over here sir?"

Owden swore "Move your fucking selves now or get left behind!"

Remembering the Colonel's parting words John wanted to take off all the men if possible. "Lieutenant Owden, how far away are the rest of your unit? We can wait a while before moving out. I don't want to leave any if I can help it."

"Bugger you Navy. We can't wait. The Germans are coming!" The Lieutenant's voice had risen to a shout.

It soon became obvious that the army officer was not going to be of any assistance so John called to his crew, "Daniels, you come with me. Shaw, stay with the boat. I'm going to see what's going on." He headed across to the building where the voice had come from.

The figure of a soldier appeared from the shadows between two buildings. "Where's Lieutenant Owden?" He demanded.

"Over at the jetty." Replied John.

"Bloody typical. Disappearing when there's a problem."

"What's up? Is it anything we can help with?"

"I hope so sir. Our boss, Captain Jenkins, got winged by a Jerry bullet when we were down by the bridge, and is coming this way with another couple of the lads. But while we were on our way here this boy appeared and tells me of a downed British pilot near here being looked after by the local doc." He pushed forward a boy aged about sixteen. "Tell the officer what you told me lad."

In halting English the boy told his story in a few simple sentences. "My father is a doctor. Three days ago English aeroplane crashes near the village. One man is dead, the other man is with my father. Can you take him to England?"

For a moment John was at loss of what to do. Should he just take the soldiers he came for and leave the unknown airman to be taken by the Germans as a prisoner of war, or should he try to rescue the airman as well?

"What's your name?" He asked.

"Finn." The boy replied.

"Right Finn, where is your father and the airman? How far away?"

Finn pointed in a direction away from where the Germans were expected. "Ten minutes walk."

Just then a shout went up from the jetty, "What the bloody hell are you doing?" This was followed by a muffled thump and a splash. Then the sound of the launch's engine revving hard.

The group all ran over to where they had left the launch. Just in time to see it heading out into the darkness of the fjord at full speed. Splashing in the water was Shaw. John was just about to dive into the cold water when Daniels shouted "Over here stokes, there's a ladder."

It only took a Shaw a couple of strokes to reach the ladder and Daniels helped him up. Shaw stood shivering as he explained what happened. "That bloody lunatic pongo officer. While I was keeping an eye on what you was doing he starts casting off. When I tries to stop him he fetched me a right wallop that knocks me straight into the water."

As they stood on the jetty considering their position a dull crash was heard across the water, followed by shouts for help.

"That idiot must have hit that wreck and stove in the boat. There's nothing we can do for him from here. He'll have to take his chances." Barely had John finished speaking than _Teignmouth's_ siren sounded across the harbour, signalling that the embarkation was nearly complete and they were preparing to leave.

Almost simultaneously a small group of soldiers appeared, including one whose bandaged arm showed pale in the darkness.


	18. Left behind

John crossed the dark foreshore to meet the newcomers and introduced himself. "Sub Lieutenant Walker. I was sent over to pick up you and your men."

"Good man, the Colonel sent a message to say the Navy were sending a boat to pick us up. Let's go then."

"Sorry sir, it's not that easy. I've already taken most of them across and they will be aboard the ships now, which are ready to leave. But your Lieutenant took our boat and I think he has driven it on to a wreck in the harbour. We'll have to assume the boat sank and he went down with it."

The army officer swore under his breath. "That was George Owden. Good riddance to him. He's been trouble ever since he joined the regiment. He seems to have an aversion to fighting, not a good trait for an infantry officer." He paused, "I'm Captain Dave Jenkins by the way." He put out his hand and they shook as if meeting on a dark Norwegian beach with the possibility of enemy troops close by was an everyday occurrence. "What else can you tell me about the situation here?"

While John and Captain Jenkins held a hurried council of war to assess their situation the soldiers did their best to dry Stoker Shaw and dress him in some of their spare kit.

"How many men have you got?" asked John.

"Five other ranks and myself. What about you?"

"There's just me and two sailors."

"So nine of us in all. I don't much fancy surrendering to the Jerries if there's a chance we can get away. You say your ship is about to leave?"

"Yes, our captain said he would sound the siren fifteen minutes before leaving." John checked the luminous dial of his watch. "It was about ten minutes ago we heard them so there's no chance we can get back across to the other side in time, even if we did have a boat."

"What about signalling them to come over here to pick us up?"

"No good. _Teignmouth_ draws too much water to get in here and if she delays to lower a boat it will probably mean she will not get clear far enough by dawn. And there's the _St Enoch_ to worry about as well, she's carrying most of the troops."

"Sirs! Sirs!" they were interrupted by Finn, the Norwegian boy. Overlooked during the events of the last few minutes he was now desperately trying to gain the attention of the two officers.

"Who the hell's this?" demanded Jenkins.

"He's a local lad. The son of a doctor. He sought us out to say his father is caring for a downed British airman and could we take him back to Britain."

"Doctor eh. If he is close by I ought to have this arm looked at properly. I slapped a field dressing on it but it still stings a bit."

John turned to the Norwegian boy, "Finn, can your father help the officer here? Then is there a boat or something we can take to get us home?"

"Yes, yes. My father helps. Come with me sirs."

Jenkins looked at John. "Do you think we can trust him? There are stories of supporters of this Quisling chap trying to get the confidence of our men and then handing them over to the Germans."

John replied, "Do we have another option at the moment? How long could we hold out by ourselves? I say one of us should go with him and find out what the situation is. If he knows a way we can get away then we can then make plans."

"OK, but I don't like the idea of splitting up, we should all stay together." Jenkins turned to Finn, "We will go with you to you father, can my men rest in safety?"

Finn replied, "Come with me. We have a big house. Men stay there."

The remainder of the group quickly gathered together and followed Finn away from the landing place. This part of the shoreline had showed on the chart as nearly deserted with few buildings. As the group passed by there was no sign of any local inhabitants. Just as well thought John, what would the reaction be to a group of British servicemen passing along the road in early hours of the morning?

All were acutely aware that their fate now lay in the hands of this unknown young Norwegian and his father. All the soldiers carried their weapons ready to use them at a moment's notice. Senses were heightened, and the sound of boots crunching on the gravel surface sounded like an entire army on the march. After a few minutes the sound of ships' engines came from across the fjord.

"That'll be the T _eignmouth_ and _St Enoch._ We're on our own now." said John quietly.

"I hope this lad can help us then." replied Jenkins.

After about half a mile Finn stopped. They were approaching a cluster of buildings, too small to really call a village. He gestured to a building a short distance from the road, "That is my house. Soon I get my father. You stay outside while I get him." He led the party round the side of the house and into the yard behind.

A faint, yellow light as if from a lantern showed from a window at the back of the house. Other than that the place seemed asleep.

"Stay here. I bring my father to you." said Finn. He then slipped away to the house.

"Well, what do think?" asked Jenkins, "Will he bring his father or the Germans?"

"I'm inclined to trust him," said John.

"And I'm inclined to as well, but to be on the safe side we'd better be prepared to defend ourselves."

In whispers Captain Jenkins gave orders to his men to disperse around the yard and prepare themselves for any eventuality.

After what felt like hours, but in reality was only minutes, a light was seen moving about and voices were heard inside the house. The two officers conferred in whispers.

"Do you think that is that Finn coming back with his father?" asked John.

"Not sure. But I would expect soldiers' boots to make more noise." replied Jenkins, silently checking his pistol.

As they listened the door creaked open and a voice called, "Hello English. It is me, Finn. My father is here."

The waiting men let out a silent, collective sign and relaxed slightly, though all kept their weapons at the ready.

Two figures appeared in the doorway, briefly outlined against a light behind. Then the door closed and a torch was switched on.

Finn spoke, "This is my father, the doctor. He has no English but I will…" the boy stopped, searching for the word he wanted.

"Translate?" Jenkins suggested.

"Yes, yes. I will translate."

The doctor addressed a long string of Norwegian to his son. Finn paused before translating. "My father says he will look at the sick man but does not want you to stay. He does not want you here if Germans come."

Jenkins considered this for a moment, then asked, "Does he know if there is a way we get back to England? The ships have left without us."

After a prolonged exchange between the two Norwegians Finn replied, "There is an old boat near. He says you can take that."

"What about the airman?"

Another exchange in Norwegian followed.

"The airman has broken legs. Men carry him to the boat."

"How far away is this boat?" asked John.

"Not far."

Jenkins made a decision.

"Walker, take your men and check out this boat. If you think it will get us all back home send one back to fetch the rest of us. Then we can follow up with this airman. I don't like the idea of moving about too much in daylight now. Hopefully we can hide up and move out tomorrow night."

"Aye aye sir. Finn, take me to the boat. Shaw, Daniels, come with me!"

The four left at a brisk pace, John and his men following Finn as he led them further along the shore to another jetty, similar to the one where they had landed. Two boats lay alongside. The first was a large, open motor boat, which was obviously used for fishing and contained a number of nets and floats, the second was an elderly yacht. Since landing the clouds had started to clear and allowed the moon to partially light the scene. Even by this John could see the boat must have lain unmaintained for some time. John climbed aboard and felt the boat move beneath his feet.

Looking around the deck all appeared to be in place; mainsail neatly bundled up and tied to the boom beneath a canvas cover, halyards neatly cleated to the mast, though the ropes felt old and worn.

The hatch leading to the cabin was secured with a padlock but John hoped it would give way with a little leverage. "Daniels," he called "have you got your seaman's knife with you?"

"Never without it sir." The sailor replied.

"Bring it here and see if you can jemmy this lock off."

"Aye aye sir."

Daniels climbed aboard and slid the knife's sturdy blade beneath the hasp. He gave it a few experimental tugs.

"I think it moved a bit sir."

He put his weight behind it and gave another pull. The screws holding the lock pulled out with a sound of splintering wood, and Daniels fell backwards in the cockpit with a clatter. As he stood up, ruefully rubbing his backside, he muttered "Sorry sir, didn't expect it to give way like that."

John slid back the hatch and reached inside to open the door to the interior.

As John stepped down into the saloon a musty, damp smell rose to meet him. He needed to know three things; was the boat sea-worthy enough to make the long voyage to Britain, were all the sails with the boat and would it accommodate all their party?

In the cabin it was so dark John initially had to find his way about by touch alone. Patting his pockets he found a box of matches and lit one to investigate the layout. Just before the flame burnt down to his fingers he spotted an oil lamp in a gimballed bracket. Quickly he reached out and gave it a shake. To his surprise there was still some oil in it. With a second match he lit the lamp and trimmed the wick until it burnt with a steady yellow flame. By its light he investigated the cabin. On the starboard side a small stove with a long seat, convertible to a bunk, forward of that. To port was a bunk that partly extended under the cockpit and another seat. Through the forward bulkhead he could see what appeared to be another two bunks forming a V shape.

John considered the space available. It would be a bit tight fitting ten men into the boat, especially with one of them injured, but it was not impossible. He turned to Daniels, who had followed him down the companionway, "Give me a hand to get the deckboards up. I want to check the bilges."

Together they lifted the boards and by the light of the lamp peered into the void. Water glittered darkly in the space below. John lay down and dipped his hand into the water, testing its depth. "It's only a couple of inches. Remarkable really for an old boat like this. She shouldn't sink under us anyway. Let's see what sails there are."

They dropped the deckboards back into place and went forward. In the forepeak they found two heavy canvas bags. Feeling inside the first John decided it was obviously a foresail from the metal fittings to attach it to the forestay. In the darkness it was difficult to assess its condition but the canvas felt dry so hopefully would be useable. The contents of the second bag felt similar, so another foresail.

"OK," said John, "It looks like she'll do. Let's start getting her ready while Finn and Shaw fetch the others."

As they climbed back up on deck John pondered on the all the problems they would have to over come in order to return to Britain. Ideally they would need a supply of food and water to last several days and if possible fuel for the stove. An occasional hot drink would work wonders to maintain morale.

Back on deck John spoke with Shaw and Finn. "I think the boat will do, though it will be crowded. What I am worried about is whether we can get clear of the fjord without attracting attention from the Germans. Look at the sky, it's nearly dawn already. If we leave now we certainly can't sail out of the fjord with the wind from the west like this."

Finn pointed to the motor boat, "That is Uncle Lars' boat. He is fishman. He will help English soldiers. We can use boat to pull."

Immediately John understood, "You mean to tow the yacht. It's too far to get to open water this morning but perhaps we can move closer to the sea and leave tonight. Finn, is there somewhere we can anchor the boat where it won't be seen from the shore? Behind an island?"

Finn beamed, "Yes, yes. I know a good place for you. No-one can see."

"Can your uncle tow us to this place before the Germans find us?"

"Yes, it is a good boat, very strong."

"Thank you. How soon can your uncle get here?"

"He can be here very quick. He lives close."

"Finn, wake your uncle and ask if he will tow us to a safe place."

"Yes, I will do it for you."

John turned to the stoker, "Shaw, bring Captain Jenkins and his men back here. If this Lars is here quickly we might be able to get down the fjord before it's fully light."

"Aye, aye, sir."

John watched as the two vanished up the shore. "Daniels, we need to get this boat ready to tow as soon the fishing boat is ready. Find a suitable rope to use as a tow."

"Aye, aye, sir."

While Daniels searched for a suitable tow line John worried whether there was anything he should have done differently. The soldiers trusted him as a naval officer to make the correct decisions regarding the sea and boats. Now he had the yacht would it be better to make straight for the open sea and hope the Germans would not be concerned with a lone boat? What about risking the lives of these soldiers in a voyage across the North Sea? Would it be better to surrender and become prisoners of war?

The sound of boots crunching on gravel heralded the arrival of the party of soldiers, four carrying a stretcher between them. Carefully they manhandled the stretcher into the boat's cockpit. "Where is best to put him?" asked Jenkins.

"Second bunk port side, I mean on the left," replied John.

Gently the soldiers lifted the man from the stretcher and with some difficulty managed to get him down the steps into the saloon and then on the bunk. John checked that he was securely wedged in and the lee cloths rigged so he was unlikely to roll out with the motion of the boat.

The flier, who had not uttered a sound while he was brought aboard, raised a hand, "Thank you. The pongos told me you're aiming to get us all back home. I want you to know that even if we don't make it I appreciate the effort."

John said "I'll do my best to ensure we all make it back. I don't want to consider the alternative. By the way what's your name?"

"Mark. Midshipman Mark Horner."

"I'm John Walker from the _Teignmouth_. What were you doing to finish up here?"

"I'm an observer with 800 Squadron. Our plane developed engine trouble and my pilot tried an emergency landing. As you can see it wasn't very successful. He didn't make it and a couple of locals found me and carried me to the Norwegian doctor."

John was interrupted by Jenkins, "Excuse me, but what do you want me and my men to do?"

"For the time being I want to try keep everyone below decks. The fewer people moving about the less attention we'll attract. Finn hopes his Uncle Lars can tow us down to near the mouth of the fjord where we can lie low for the day. From there we should be able to get out into the open sea more easily and make a course for home."

With some difficulty all the soldiers were squeezed below. It was clear that the voyage home would be very uncomfortable for those in the cramped conditions of the cabin.

Once everyone was in John returned to the cockpit to keep a look-out. He was joined by Daniels. "I found a rope that should do as a tow rope sir. It's a bit worn but it ought to do in sheltered conditions."

"Thank you Daniels. What are you like at handling a boat under sail?"

"I've done a bit sir. I crewed a sailing cutter in the Med Fleet regatta several times when I was on the _Nelson_. Didn't do too shabbily."

"Good, I don't really want to have to take the helm all the way back home."

"How about these soldiers sir? Reckon they'd be any use?"

"I don't know. We'll give them a try once we're clear of land. It could take us days to get back."

The two sat together in silence, John contemplating the enormity of the task ahead of them. Daniels watching the sky slowly lighten as the rising sun, still hidden behind the surrounding hills, heralded a new day.

Every few minutes John looked around, hoping that Finn and his Uncle Lars would arrive before the Germans. At last two figures appeared. One was definitely Finn so John supposed the other to be Uncle Lars. This was shortly confirmed when Finn introduced him.

"This is my uncle. He will take you to where you can wait. He does not like Germans He will help you."

Lars grinned and held out his hand for John to shake, "Hallo, gud mornink."

"Good morning. Thank you for coming to help us."

At the sound of voices Jenkins appeared from inside the yacht. "Well what's the plan?"

John explained, "Lars here," at the mention of his name Lars grinned widely and waved, "is going to tow us to safe place near the mouth of the fjord. We can hide there during the day and slip away tonight. Hopefully we can be well clear of the coast by first light tomorrow."

"Are you sure? This boat's a bit big to hide."

"Finn says there is a place where we can't be seen. We'll have to trust his judgement, and hope the Germans are more interested in taking and holding the harbour than investigating the fjord in detail."

"Why do think that?"

"Look, you're a soldier. How much notice would take of what is just off the coast unless you were specially ordered to?"

"True. We tend to look on it as the limit of our responsibility."

The two Norwegians watched this exchange between the British officers. "We go soon?" asked Finn.

"Yes. Can we go now?"

"Yes, we go now."


	19. Escape

The sound of the fishing boat's engine sounded deafeningly loud after the silence of the night and John hoped they were doing the right thing and it would not attract the attention of any German troops. In the motor boat Lars gestured to port, indicating he was turning in that direction, John steered to conform. Soon the two boats were in the narrows, was it really only a few hours ago that he had passed through these waters in the other direction on _Teignmouth_?

Everyone on board was tense, waiting for a warning shot from the shore, but nothing disturbed the quiet of the early morning. As the fjord gradually widened out, Lars followed the northern shore. Rounding a headland the view opened up to reveal what looked like another rocky headland jutting out in to the grey water. Lars pointed to it and raised his thumb, then pointed again. John interpreted this as meaning this was their destination.

As they drew closer what had appeared to be a single headland resolved itself into a group of rocky islets rising steeply from the water. Lars reduced speed and slowly towed the yacht down a rock-lined channel between two of the islets. After a few hundred yards the channel bent slightly hiding the view of the fjord astern of them.

Lars signalled to say he was stopping and John let the yacht slide alongside the fishing boat. Finn dropped the fishing boat's anchor over the bow before nimbly crossing to the yacht.

"You stay here," he said, "We go back and come tonight, help you leave. Now you…" he was lost for the right words and pointed to the anchor stowed on the yacht's foredeck.

"Anchor," said John.

"Yes, anchor," said Finn, repeating the word carefully.

Daniels had anticipated this and already gone forward to prepare. John joined him and together they let it drop into the dark water. After checking it was holding firmly they went back to the cockpit where Finn was talking to Jenkins. "Yes, yes, we bring food and water."

"Good," said John, "I was worried about basic provisions. Could you bring a chart?"

"Chart?"

"A map of the sea. To show us where to steer."

Finn spoke to his uncle, who shook his head and shrugged his shoulders before replying.

"He says he does not need a map of the sea he knows where to find fish."

John grimaced, without a chart of the North Sea it would be difficult to judge what course to steer to reach Britain safely.

"Thank you for asking anyway. When will you be back?"

"Tonight, before dark."

As Finn rejoined his uncle in the fishing boat and after weighing anchor headed back up the narrow channel to the fjord and home. John and Captain Jenkins discussed what to do until the Norwegians returned.

"Ideally we should post sentries on these islets, then we could see anyone approaching." said Jenkins.

"A good idea, but we don't have a small boat to get anyone ashore," responded John.

"We'll just have to keep a lookout from here, though I don't know what good it will do. By the time we see someone they'd be too close for us to do anything. We must organise something to keep the men occupied."

"I'll need to sort out the sails, check on what we have got, iron out any problems and things like that. Can I have a couple of your men to help with that."

"No problem at all. Take whoever you need."

"Finn mentioned food and water, what do we have at the moment?"

"Not a lot. When we detached we took three days' worth of field rations with us. There's less than one day's allowance remaining. Do you have any?"

"Nothing. We only expected to be away from the ship for a couple of hours at the most."

"I'll get my corporal to take charge of the rations. I don't know how much the Norwegians will bring so we had better aim make these last as long as possible. How long do think it will take to get back?"

"It's difficult to tell. If the wind holds like this it could be two or three days. On the other hand it could be much longer."

"We'll need to be very careful with fresh water then. I'll warn the men to drink as little as possible. Look, I can see you're worried about getting back. You take charge of the steering and sails or whatever you need to do, I'll take charge of the men."

o – o – O – o – o

John kept the men busy during the morning, he had two different teams raise and lower the sails. At first this was more difficult than expected as the blocks had become stiff through lack of use and it took the joint efforts of three men to hoist the mainsail and its heavy gaff. After doing it twice the job had become easier. John hoped it would not be necessary to conduct this task more than once more, but it was best if the men knew what to do, just in case.

Jenkins had the men who were not occupied on deck strip and clean their weapons and in turns gave everyone two hours rest in the forward bunks. Like true professional soldiers they grabbed the chance to sleep not knowing when the next opportunity would be.

Early in the evening, after the corporal had scrupulously issued each man with a ration of hard tack biscuit and water, Shaw raised his hand and called for silence.

"What is it?" asked Jenkins, who was sitting next to him in the cockpit.

"Engine noise sir," reported Shaw, I think it's the fishing boat coming back."

The others sat quietly for a few seconds until they too could hear the steady putt-putt of an engine. Captain Jenkins called softly to three of his men to stand by in case the boat contained the enemy and not the friendly Norwegians. Carefully they cradled their rifles and thumbed off the safety catches.

The tension mounted until the boat appeared around the bend in the channel.

Jenkins warned them not to relax, "Keep alert until we are sure there aren't any Germans hiding in the boat," he advised.

Only when Lars brought the boat alongside, and he could see the only occupants were Lars and Finn, did Jenkins let his men stand down. When the boat was secure alongside the Norwegians lifted two bags onto the deck of the yacht.

"Food," explained Finn, pointing to one of the bags. "Clothes," he added pointing to the other.

"What clothes?" asked John.

"My clothes. I go with you," replied Finn, as if it was the most natural thing to be doing.

"You can't come with us. We're going back to Britain. It will be too dangerous," protested John.

"I go with you. Learn to fight Germans," insisted Finn.

"But what about your family? Your father? Your uncle? What do they say? Aren't you too young?" John looked to Jenkins and Lars for support. The fisherman just shrugged. Without Finn to translate he could not follow what was being said.

Finn turned to his uncle and explained what was being discussed. Lars nodded, pointed to Finn, then to the yacht, then to the south west and the general direction of Britain. The meaning was clear, Finn was to go to with them.

Jenkins laid his hand on John's arm and said, in low voice, "Better let him come with us. He's seems a plucky lad, and from some of the stories I've heard the Germans deal very harshly with anyone thought to collaborate with us."

Defeated John had no option but to agree. "Alright Finn, you can come with us. The journey will be uncomfortable and might be dangerous."

"Thank you, thank you," said Finn, a big grin splitting his face. "We go soon. Need light to see. Look I have map!" At that he produced a battered atlas. John guessed it probably was one of his old school books, but it was better than nothing.

Final preparations did not take long and soon the anchor was raised. In the last of the grey evening light Lars towed the yacht out of the rocky haven. John was glad he did not have to find the way though by himself, but Lars led the way with confidence borne of long familiarity.

After nearly an hour the fishing boat's engine was throttled back and Lars shouted across to them. Finn translated, "He says it is time to leave. He must go back now."

Under John's direction, and the watchful eye of Daniels, the sails were raised as Lars manoeuvred to keep the boat's bows into the chill north-westerly wind. With main and jib finally hoisted the tow line was cast off and the sails hauled in tight to set the boat close-hauled on a westerly course. John had estimated this as the best route home. His first aim was to get as far as possible from the Norwegian coast before turning to a more southerly course that hopefully would lead to Britain. Due west seemed good, if they could steer that course, otherwise as close to that as the wind would allow.

There were final shouted goodbyes between the two boats and as the yacht gathered way Lars turned about and with a final wave headed back into the darkness. Finn stayed on deck, watching long after the fishing boat has vanished from sight. Eventually Jenkins put a fatherly arm around him and suggested he came below.

John remained at the helm keeping them close-hauled on the starboard tack. "Strike a match Daniels, and let's see what we are steering."

The seaman struck match and held it low over the compass. "A touch south of west Sir," he said, after a minute or so of watching the swinging compass card.

"Good. If we can hold that all night we'll be well clear of the coast by daylight."

Two of the soldiers came up from below. "Mind if we stay up here a bit sir?" asked one. "I'm feeling a bit queasy and think the fresh air might do me some good."

"Fine, keep in the cockpit though. These waves don't seem too big, but the odd rough one could throw us about a bit."

The soldier groaned, "Not too big, they look bloody big enough to me. Begging your pardon sir."

"Seasickness, we've all suffered in our time," said Daniels. "Just sit on the lee side, that's the low one. That way if you do have to throw up you don't get it back in your face."

The soldiers shuffled across and settled half facing out of the boat. Their hunched figures in the darkness reminded John of his sister on that fateful night they accidentally sailed across the North Sea in the yacht _Goblin_. John settled into the rhythm of steering to guide the boat through the oncoming waves; pushing the tiller away slightly as first a wave pushed the bow to port and then a gentle tug to correct the swing as they slid down the back of the wave. The regularity of the motion was comforting in a way, push and pull, push and pull. He could steer without thinking about it leaving his mind free to consider other things. How long should they stay on this course? What should they steer to ensure they reached land rather than sail on blindly?

Silence fell in the cockpit for a while. The only sounds were those created by the water swirling past and a regular slap from a rope somewhere above. Occasionally a voice could be heard from below but John suspected that the others were also suffering from the motion of the boat.

Jenkins came back up, and surveyed the crowded cockpit. "Are you staying there all night?" he asked.

John started. He had intended to stay on the helm for as long as possible, but the question prompted him that he ought to split the duty and be available and awake enough to take charge if needed.

"No, I ought to share the helm with Daniels. Then in daylight we can see about getting some of your men to take a turn. It'll be easier to teach them when they can see what they're doing."

"Good. We're relying on you to get us home. Are you two OK?" This last question was addressed to the soldiers hunched on the leeward side.

"Fine now, thank you sir. It's much better up here in the fresh air," said one.

"Well it does leave more room for the rest in the cabin. I'll rotate you all around so everyone can get up here if they want it."

"Daniels, take the helm," John ordered, "let's see how much you've remembered."

As Daniels took the tiller John advised, "Keep her close-hauled like this on the starboard tack. If you feel the wind shift too much give me a shake. Otherwise we'll change over every hour."

"Aye aye sir."

"Now you two," It was John's turn to address the soldiers. "You can act as lookouts. Sing out if you see anything that doesn't look like a wave. With half the Home Fleet out I don't want to be run down."

"What about the jerries, sir?" asked one.

"We gave them quite a seeing to at Narvik, so I don't think they have as many ships as us. But all the same being run down by one of theirs is just as bad as being run down by one of ours."

Chuckles from the men told John that his feeble attempt at a joke had gone down well and morale was still good.

Before going back down Jenkins said "I send two more up in an hour. Call me if you want anything."

When he had gone John tried to rest huddled up in a corner. Although he closed his eyes his ears and brain remained active. He could hear the occasional low murmur of conversation as the men discussed their situation. At least they seemed happy enough and had confidence in him.


	20. Rescue

Every hour John and Daniels changed places at the helm and two fresh soldiers came up to act as lookouts. From his snores it was apparent the Able Seaman managed to go to sleep almost instantly when off watch. John tried to doze a little but he kept worrying whether they were making good the best course and whether they would see another ship in the dark.

In his mind he kept turning over the events of the last forty-eight hours. What could he have done differently? Could he have prevented Lieutenant Owden taking the launch and leaving them stranded? Had he selected the correct course once clear of the fjord? What if he mis-judged their position and they missed their landfall.

After a while he realised there was a slight lightening of the eastern sky that was the first indication that the night was coming to an end. What would the new day bring?

As the light strengthened he stood up and scanned all round the horizon: nothing to see but grey sea and grey sky. It looked as if they might have made good their escape.

Jenkins came up closely followed by Finn. John immediately asked the Norwegian to bring up the atlas. When he had it in hand and had found the appropriate page John traced a line from the coast with his finger.

Almost speaking to himself he murmured, "Say we made about four knots all night. That would bring us about here. No idea what the tidal stream was doing so will have to discount that. Allow a bit for leeway... I reckon we are about here. But of course it's a very small scale and it's just an estimate."

Jenkins looked at where John was indicating on the map. "That doesn't look very far."

"It's not," John admitted, "I want to hold this course until noon then come round to south west. That will eventually bring us to north east Scotland." Mentally he added "I hope."

"Right, you're in charge of the boat," Jenkins sounded more confident than John felt. "How about breakfast? There's only bread and cold meat I'm afraid, will that do?"

o – o – O – o – o

After everyone had eaten their ration John decided it was time to start teaching Jenkins' men to steer. At first they took the tiller under very close supervision. Most got the hang of steering pretty quickly but the idea of maintaining a course so as to keep the sails drawing at their best was a different issue.

Contending with the waves also produced some moments of drama. One wave, larger than usual, smacked against the bow, pushing it round to leeward. This increased the pressure on the sails making the boat heel over further. The soldier on the helm was not expecting this and let the boat sheer violently off course. John put out his hand and guided the tiller back across, all the while watching the compass card. As the boat regained her correct course he released his grip. "You need to watch for that." he advised the helmsman, "Keep her as close to the planned course as possible. Otherwise there's no knowing where we'll end up."

The soldier nodded and mumbled, "This sailing lark ain't as easy as it looks sir."

As John watched the compass card swung again, showing they were nearly thirty degrees off course. This time the soldier corrected the swing and the boat veered back, then past the intended track and up almost into the wind until the sails started to shiver. Gradually the soldier brought them back close to the planned course, until the next time he was caught unawares.

The progress was slower than it would have been if John had kept the helm, but it helped to occupy the men and, if they were to be at sea for many days everyone should be able to handle the boat.

After a few hours a plane was spotted far to the north but it was too far off to confirm whether it was friendly of not and no-one wanted to attract its attention in case was the latter.

About mid afternoon a smudge was sighted against the sky to the north east. It moved right to left across the northern horizon and slowly came closer. The smudge gradually resolved itself into the funnel smoke from a small group of ships. At first it was difficult to tell what the ships were but gradually it became clear they were two small warships escorting a larger one.

"Sir, what can we do if they're Jerries?" asked one of the soldiers.

"Nothing that wouldn't get us shot at." replied Jenkins, "If they are we shall just have to surrender to them. It would be a pity after getting this far but even a single machine gun could reduce this boat to a wreck within seconds."

In silence everyone aboard watched the ships draw closer. Soon the distinctive three-funnelled silhouette revealed the larger ship to be one of the Royal Navy's County class cruisers, escorted by two destroyers.

John could barely conceal his relief. "It's alright lads they're friendly!" He jumped up onto the cabin roof and waved both arms in an attempt to attract attention. Already he could see the nearer destroyer had increased speed slightly and altered course towards them. A signal lamp flickered from the bridge of the destroyer. With nothing to hand that was suitable to reply using morse John leant back against the boom to steady himself and started semaphoring knowing his arms would show dark against the light canvas of the sail.

He raised and lowered his arms several times to give the "attention" signal. Then waited, hoping he been seen and understood.

Then he saw a figure on the bridge wing with a pair of flags, the yellow and red showing as bright splashes of colour against the grey background. The distant signalman made the answering signal.

John started sending his message, slowly at first as it was some time since he used semaphore: R-E-Q-U-E-S-T  H-E-L-P he slowly spelt out, watching as each word was acknowledged.

R-N  A-N-D  A-R-M-Y  P-E-R-S-O-N-N-E-L  A-B-O-A-R-D

He then sent A-R to signify the end of message and dropped his arms to his side.

After giving the answering signal again the figure started to send.

H-E-A-V-E  T-O

John gave the acknowledge signal in return and jumped back down into the cockpit, took the tiller and brought the boat's bows into the wind and eased the sheets. All on board watched the low grey shape of the destroyer as she came closer. Figures on the bridge could be seen studying them through binoculars.

A voice came booming across the water, they were using a loud hailer. "Who are you and what do want."

John cupped his hands and yelled back, "Sub Lieutenant Walker and eleven others. We have come from Norway and want a passage home. Two need a doctor."

He hoped the destroyer's captain had the sense to bring his ship head to wind. Yes, sure enough the other was now swinging round and slowing to a crawl. On her deck he could see sailors hanging scrambling nets over the side.

John eased the yacht closer until he was only yards from the rust streaked side of the warship. "Daniels, stand by with a head rope." He ordered. As the boat rose on a wave's crest he brought her alongside with a bump. Daniels passed a rope to a waiting sailor.

Another hail from the destroyer, "As fast as you can, there may be submarines about!"

One by one the crew crossed to the destroyer. A stretcher was lowered for the injured airman, who, once he was strapped in tightly was hoisted aboard using the torpedo davit. John was the last to leave, having lowered the sails to the deck. The old yacht may have only been a temporary command but he had a lump in his throat as he left her for the destroyer.

As he stepped aboard the destroyer two pairs of hands helped him over the guardrails.

"Well, well, John Walker! Fancy meeting you here! Welcome to the _Intent_ "

John turned to face the familiar voice. "Elsie!" he cried, and clapped his old friend on the shoulder. "I could say the same to you. I haven't seen you since the _Royal Oak_."

A tall Lieutenant Commander interrupted, "I'm Trench, the First Lieutenant. Sorry to break up this happy reunion but the skipper will want a word. Are you fit to come to the bridge? The doc will want to check you all, but I think that can wait a few minutes."

John followed him forward and up several ladders to the bridge. Trench briefly listed those picked up from the yacht. The figure in the tall bridge chair then turned to address him. "Sub Lieutenant Walker?"

"Yes Sir."

"I'm Commander Nick Everard, skipper of the _Intent_. We are escorting this cruiser back to Rosyth. She suffered bomb damage aft a couple of days ago. You can give a full report later, but tell me briefly how you come to be sailing the North Sea in a yacht with a load of soldiers and a Norwegian boy aboard."

John explained in as few sentences as possible all that had happened since he left _Teignmouth_ several days earlier.

"Well Walker, it sounds as if you have been very fortunate. You are not the only ones to have had adventures in the fjords. If you speak to my officers they can tell you of our escapades. First I'd better tell the boss what we've been up to."

Everard called for the Yeoman of Signals and dictated a signal with brief details of the personnel picked up. Soon a signal lamp clattered, sending a stream of dots and dashes across to the cruiser. High on the cruiser's bridge another lamp sparked in reply, far too fast for John to follow. The Yeoman returned, "Signal sent and received Sir, but I got a very strange reply. Shall I ask for a repetition?"

"What does it say Yeo?"

"From _Westmorland_ to _Intent_. Attn S/Lt Walker. NOT DROWNING PROVES NOT DUFFERS. Message ends sir."

Everard turned to John, "Well Walker, does it make sense to you?"

"Yes Sir, my father is CO of the _Westmorland_."

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter I took the liberty of "borrowing" HMS Intent and her crew from Alexander Fullerton's "Everard" series of books. Their involvement is not enough to warrant a crossover, but anyone interested in this period should read "Storm Force to Narvik". Westmorland is, alas, a fictional ship. I think she would have been a very suitable addition to the County class.
> 
> I shall leave John's story there for now, but it will be continued at some other time. In the meantime I have some other plans afoot, including an original fiction that one day I hope to publish online.
> 
> Finally I must thank several people who have helped in various capacities: Constantlearner for advice and encouragement, Ragnelle for advice and information about Norway, and my daughter Catherine for proof reading the early chapters.


End file.
